Wanted: Dead or Alive
by goblinesque
Summary: Bounty hunter King Schultz and Django are on search of a murderous gambler. Lives are changed when they take in the murderer in hopes of collecting the large sum of money promised for the captured. Gang chases and gun shots are exchanged across the South as they race to Mississippi. (Schultz/OC)
1. Bounty

**Chapter 1: Bounty**

**Don't own any characters except my own, that's the only time I will say it!**

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Schultz and his newly bought Django rode into the small dust filled town. Small shops cluttered the streets along with tents in the alleyways selling essential products at an astounding high price. Shultz knew what sort lived in this town. Gamblers, drunkards, and whores walked up and down the streets. He suspected that not one good soul lived within the confines of this town.

Eyes locked on to Django as he rode upon his bay gelding that he had recently acquired from his previous owners. It wasn't a new experience of having eyes upon him, he had grown used to the shocked bright eyes of the white folks that looked up or down at him, depending upon where they stood in the town.

Cat calls and gun shots came from the whorehouse to the left of them where a two story hotel house stood regal. The sheriff of the town and his deputy stood stout upon the hotel's porch as they watched with keen eyes as Shultz and Django rode on into their town.

"So what we doin' here," Django asked with a thick Southern accent that he had acquired from many, many years laboring on a rather large Southern plantation.

"We have a bounty," Schultz annunciated as he pulled his horse to a halt on the side of the dirt road. He pulled a wanted poster out of his billfold that hid within his vest pocket.

"Name is Mad Jack Hatfield," Schultz informed Django.

Django looked at the wanted poster that was handed to him. There was no picture of the wanted man upon the flyer. He looked over to Schultz and gave him a confused smile.

"No picture," Django asked, "What he do?"

"He went on a small killing spree," Schultz said simply, "Wiped them all before finishing them off."

"Well how you know he here," Django asked as he dismounted the gelding.

"Word of mouth," King Schultz informed him quickly as he hopped off of his dental wagon, "Many people have a price for their information, a relatively cheap price. So we'll have a beer at that there saloon and then we'll start askin' around."

Schultz turned to look over to Django and shook his head, recalling the scene that had taken place just weeks before.

"Maybe we should skip the beers," he admitted and turned to look at the bar, "You just stay out here while I go ask the barkeeper."

Django looked at King Schultz with slight confusion, but shrugged his shoulders at the man's words as he turned to see a very blessed woman walking passed him dressed in the most expensive of gowns of the most expensive red and black cloth. He watched as she gave him a stern look as she walked passed him, carrying a black umbrella to shield herself from the burning ball of fire that made its home in the blue skies of the South.

"Mam," he announced and tugged at the tip of his hat as she walked passed him, ignoring his courtesy as she walked into the bath houses.

Schultz walked into the crowded bar. Scantily clad women held trays carrying hard liquor to and from the bar to the burly patrons of this shoddy establishment. He pulled his hat off of his head as he walked toward the bar and took a seat at the only empty chair.

"What'll ya have," the barkeeper asked as he cleaned a dirtied glass with a white handkerchief.

"I'm looking for something…or rather someone," Schultz admitted, "Jack Hatfield. He's an old friend."

The bartender smiled at him, the smile exposed the tobacco that had riddled his teeth from a life time of chewing and smoking.

"Mad Jack just left here," he informed him.

"Where'd he go," Schultz asked with a growing smile, happy that he did not have to pay any money this time for the information that he needed.

"You may want to wait a while," the barkeeper informed him, "Went to the bath house, may have a visitor in there if ya know what I mean."

Schultz smiled as he tapped the stained bar top and gave his thanks to the bartender. He hurriedly walked out of the bar, narrowly missing being trampled by two large burly men throwing punches at each other in a drunken brawl.

He hurried out of the bar and smiled brightly as he walked into the fresh air, relieved to have escaped the smoke filled room. He smiled at Django happily as he clapped his hands together.

"We got him," Schultz announced happily as he clapped his hands together in giddiness. He hurriedly made his way toward the bath house with Django following close behind him. He turned quickly and stopped his black friend.

"The barkeep said that there may be a woman in various stages of nudity," Schultz admitted with a shrug of his shoulder as he watched the surrounding townspeople staring at him, "I think it would be safer if you'd stay out here."

Django shook his head at the man's words, but agreed to stay behind anyways. He had seen what had happened to a slave that whistled at a passing white woman. The man hadn't died from the tar or the feathers; he had died from the infection that entered his body after the tar was removed from his body. It had been the very first lethal act of violence against a slave that he had seen. He was seven when he witnessed the brutal act and he had never been able to shake the memory.

Schultz took a deep breath, readying himself to catch Mad Jack in a compromising situation. He placed his hand in his pocket and lightly touched against the small pistol that he always kept hidden from prying eyes. He filled himself with courage as he thought of the many possibilities that could await him jsut behind the door of this small bath house. Death did not frighten him, but a crippling gun shot to the leg did bother him greatly.

He opened the door and stopped short as he looked at the pale, naked back of a woman with dark hair that was kept in a high bun upon her head. He felt his breath slip away from him as he watched the woman's arm extend outward to drop the white brazier to the ground. He could see the outline of her pale face as she turned her head back toward the small tub of hot water.

Her skin resembled the snowy mountain tops of his homeland. He suspected that there wasn't a woman in all of the South land that did not envy her complexion, a complexion that no doubt came from a comfortable living inside the confines of a large plantation house.

He cleared his throat as he heard a chuckle escape her.

"Is that a pistol in your pocket or are you just happy to see me," she asked with a distinct Mississippi accent.

His eyes grew as large as Chinese tea saucers as he watched her daringly turn to face him with her breasts exposed to him. Never in his life had he seen a more perfect, perkier set of breasts. He quickly forced his eyes away from what God had obviously blessed her with and looked at black liner that covered her eyes and caused the dark blue orbs to stand out even more. He watched as a wicked smile tugged at her blood red lips.

"Never see the breasts of a woman before Mr. Schultz," she asked as she lifted a well-crafted dark brow to gaze at him with a dark glare.

He choked back an uncomfortable cough as he pulled his gun out of its home within the confines of his jacket pocket.

"I'm looking for Mad Jack Hatfield," he demanded.

The woman chuckled once again as she glared at him. She turned back around and sighed as she reached down to grab the white silk cloth that she had dropped to the floor. She rolled her eyes in agitation.

"So much for that bath," she whispered in slight anger as she pulled the small clothing over her chest and hurriedly stepped back into her dress.

Schultz watched as she looked into a broken mirror that stood in the corner and smile as she took in the fierceness of her looks.

"Where is Mad Jack," he asked once again.

She rolled her eyes as she turned back to look at him. A smile grew across the ruby red lips as she walked toward him, stopping just before she stepped upon the toes of his black leather boots. She could always cause a man to cower slightly by her intimidating eyes and this one was no different than any other drunken bastard that she had encountered since she had left her plantation home in Mississippi.

"It's Jacqueline Hatfield. And I detest the name Mad Jack. I'm not mad, I'm just lookin' for the pound of flesh that is owed to me. I'm just murderous."

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**You like? Review and tell me what you think? **

**There aren't many stories in this section. That needs to be fixed so this is my little contribution. **

**Hmm...I picture Mad Jack as Lara Pulver (the woman that played Irene Adler in Sherlock)**

**Reviews are loved! :)**


	2. Wanted: Dead or Alive

**Chapter 2: Wanted: Dead or Alive**

**A/N: So I'm a history major. I'm going to go at this as if it's actually happening which means that there will be racial slurs and all kinds of horrible things. Also, from what I've read, there seems to be a misconception on how things were back then, especially in the area of how blacks were viewed. Let's get this straight, it was very rare that a black man was seen as equal to a white man...even if that white man disagreed with slavery, so that is how I am going to portray American life in this story. I am going to write it in the reality of the times back then. **

**Sorry if it offends people, but that's how I write. I don't dress it all up in order to not offend people, I write realistically (especially if it is a period piece like this). So with that, know that I am not racist or a horrible person, I'm just writing the way things actually happened back then.**

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"How," Schultz stopped as the piercing dark blue eyes of the woman looked into his own, "How'd you know my name?"

She smiled and replied, "Who in this great, grand world has never heard of the great dentist and bounty hunter King Schultz?"

Her smile quickly faded as she looked him up and down. His clothes were wrinkled as if he had slept a many a long nights sleeping outside in the elements of the wild South. Her eyes darkened as she moved dangerously close to him.

"And here you are, with a pistol in your pocket," she whispered as she reached into his pocket and lightly graced her long fingers over the base of the silver gun, "_coming _to take me in. Tell me, Mr. Schultz, will you shoot me in the head or in my heart?"

He did not say anything as he looked down at her petite white hand that was now removing itself from his pocket, thankfully leaving the pistol within its cozy, warm home.

"I'm quite fond of what lives within my heart Dr. Schultz," she whispered as she looked into his worried eyes, "And of my face, well, I'm sure it should be a damnable sin to shoot a woman in the head."

"You'd really kill a woman just for a few bucks," she asked with a lifted brow.

"No," he answered as he gave her a wicked grin that matched her own, "but I have no problem taking you to Mississippi."

"Mississippi," she hissed in anger, "I shall surely be hanged there! You don't know what kind of fresh hell is waiting there for me to return!"

"Well that's what happens to cold blooded killers," Schultz informed her quickly, taking in how her once dark blue eyes now burned like hell fire at the mention of Mississippi.

The fire in her eyes quickly disappeared as she backed away with a large smile on her face. She lowered her eyes and curtsied slightly in front of him. Her smile growing immensely as she looked up at him wickedly.

"I need to go into the bar to collect my things," she stated in a matter of fact tone. She watched as Schultz made a move for his gun. She held her hand out to him and added, "There's no need for that. I assure you that you have me. You can have me all the way to Mississippi and back again if you'd like, but I'm not leavin' without my things and my horse, Dr. Schultz."

Schultz smiled at her simple request. He had never met an outlaw that had accepted their capture and would be willing to go along with them all the way to the hangman's noose. This outlaw was something all together different.

"You gonna follow me," she asked as she walked passed him, her perfume floating in the air and finding his nostrils perfectly. The smell of honeysuckles took over his senses as she walked by him and out into the hot streets of the one horse town.

"I think it's more beneficial to me-"

"And your slave," Jack informed dangerously with a large smile as she walked passed Django, "Next time he puts them spook eyes upon me, I'll take a whip to him and I won't stop until he cries out the devil's name to take his soul."

She chuckled as she walked into the bar. Broken glass cracked under her black heels as she walked toward the stairs to her room above the bar. She turned quickly to King and smiled at him.

"Only men allowed up here are payin' men," she informed him, her lips were close to his ears as she spoke to him, "And I'm sure you're above payin' for a woman. Hell, I doubt you have ever needed to pay for a woman Whiskers."

She pulled away from him with a sinfully dark smile across her red lips as she turned her back on him.

"I shan't be long," she informed him as she lifted the ends of her skirts up and continued to walk up the stairs.

Schultz stood, releasing the breath that he had been keeping, at the bottom of the stairs as he watched her enter the bedroom where she had slept on her stop into this one horse town. He turned quickly to see the bartender smiling at him and giving him a wink.

He couldn't help the smile that escaped him at the bartender's actions. He had been duped. Never would he have imagined that Mad Jack was a woman, especially a murderously beautiful woman with the devil's silver tongue. Mad Jack Hatfield could be a potential disease.

...

Jack hurried into her small bedroom that she had slept in for the last week or so. It was still clean as if she had not been staying in there. She bit at her lip and looked out the window for a quick escape. She smiled brightly at how bright the German bounty hunter really was.

"Damn," she whispered to herself as she looked down to the dirt ground to see Django standing beside the dental carriage with two guns pointed right at her.

She smiled at him and pursed her lips together as a unique whistle escaped her. She smiled at the sound of thunderous hooves bounded through the street. She watched as Django turned quickly as a large black and white paint mustang reared up beside him and pawed at the ground. An expensive black and silver saddle and matching blanket sat atop the beast's back of rolling fat. The horse was clearly well taken care of and well mannered.

Django quickly looked up at the window to see that the woman had receded back into the room and closed the window. He shook his head as he looked at the painted beast that now stood regal beside him. The animal snorted slightly as dust flew across the dry Texas street.

Jack looked down to see Django lightly patting her horse on its large muscled neck. She couldn't help the smile that came over her as she looked down at her horse. Her one constant companion through her travels across the South.

"Hello pretttayyy lady," she heard a slurred voice announce from behind her. She felt a sudden jerk of her elbow that forced her to face a tall, slim figure of a very hard hearted man. She had seen the man plenty of times before; he was nothing but a low down dirty bounty hunter that used a gang to back him up against the marching armies. He had also been a loud mouth in Washington before he took to the game of bounty hunting and fighting duels, one of which that resulted in the death of a congressman.

"Jack McCoy," she announced with feigned happiness as he backed her up against the wall. He placed his pistol against her cheek as a show of dominance over her. He smiled as he watched her cower into the wall.

"I've been lookin' for you for a while Hatfield," he informed her harshly, "Almost had ya in New Orleans."

"Well I haven't been lookin' for you McCoy," she replied with a sweet smile upon her face as she looked up at his long cheekbones and sharp nose. His sky blue eyes pierced into her dark blue ones. Together their eyes resembled the cloudless blue sky touching upon the cold dark waters of the deepest ocean.

"There's a pretty little bounty on your head," he informed her with a smile as he cocked the gun and held it against her temple, "It's a shame that I'll have to destroy that pretty lil face o' yours, but considerin' you didn't consider it when you shot my lil brother through the eye-"

"He was a pathetic lil pus that couldn't get it up," she hissed with a dark smile upon her lips, "I thought I was doing his wife a favor."

She watched as rage came over Jack McCoy's face and smiled as her free hand darted behind her back and grabbed the long rifle that she had kept hidden behind the white curtains. She hurriedly shot it upwards and smiled as the man fell backwards with a bullet in his throat.

Jack watched as the bounty hunter lay on the wooden planks of the floor grasping at his throat. She moved quickly toward him and picked his gun from the floor. She watched as blood danced across the wooden planks, staining them at the moment. She watched as he spit blood up in the air as he tried to speak.

"I never did like your family McCoy," she hissed as she held his gun in her hand, just above his head. Her eyes were as cold as Arctic ice caps as she pulled the trigger and ended the young man's life.

Screams from the whores from the room beside hers ripped through the bar. She rolled her eyes in annoyance as she dropped the rifle and hid the pistol in the gun belt that she quickly fastened against her hip. She hurried toward the dresser beside her bed and quickly grabbed a large leather bag. She held it closely to her as she hurried out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Men quickly ran passed her to see what the commotion from upstairs was about.

Schultz stood slightly dumbfounded as she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the bar.

"Time to go," she demanded as she jumped onto her horse and urged him forward. Django hurried onto his old horse and hurried in the direction of Mad Jack. He refused to let a bounty go free. With each head that was collected he received money from Schultz.

Schultz watched as a large gang of men on horses hurried passed them as his single horse pulled him out of the town, hurrying to catch up with Django and Mad Jack.

He had seen the blood that had splattered upon her dress and knew that she had taken another man's life. From the size of the gang that had bolted into the town toward the bar, he knew that she had just taken the life of someone rather important.

Mad Jack would be a daring challenge to get her back to Mississippi. They would have to take away everything that could possibly be used as a weapon against them. He knew that he would have to tie her hands up.

Mad Jack had the reputation of being the quickest murderer in the South and, of what he had just witnessed, the rumors had been correct. She had only been up there for a grand total of two minutes before the gun fire was heard.

Mad Jack was a dangerous commodity that they were now destined to travel with. He just hoped that the gang that had just passed had no intentions of pursuing them in hopes of taking Jack for their own justice.

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**So how about that? What do you think?**

**Any chance for a Schultz/Jack pairing? Will the gang come after them? Will they make it to Mississippi?**

**Do you like Mad Jack? **

**So many questioned need to be answered! :)**


	3. The Woman

**Chapter 3: The Woman**

Django and Mad Jack raced through the desert with Schultz right on their tale. Jack's long dark hair fell from her high bun as she raced through the flat land of Texas. She kicked her horse harder and harder to further herself away from the town and the murder that she had just committed.

She smiled as she looked back quickly to see Schultz bouncing up and down in his dental carriage. She chuckled as she whipped her horse on his rump with her small whip. The horse kicked up the speed with each long stride, quickly moving further and further away from the two men.

Django looked back to King who was shaking his head with an entertained smile.

"Don't let her get away," Schultz informed him with a chuckle as he watched the woman race across the desert with a trail of sand flying behind her, "And don't kill her either. She's worth more alive."

Django shook his head as he kicked his horse in the flanks and hurried after the outlaw woman. His horse quickly caught up with her slowing animal. He watched in confusion as she stopped her horse and waited for him. He could hear her cackling like a hen with laughter as she waited for him.

He stopped in front of her and jerked the reins out of her hands.

"What you think you doin'," he asked in confusion.

She cocked her head to the side and smiled wickedly as she said, "Confusin' you and playing your master's game."

"He ain't my master," Django corrected her harshly as he wrapped the reins around the horn of his saddle and led her horse forward, "I'm a free man."

"What's your name free slave," she demanded harshly, her brow lifted as she waited for his response.

"Django," he informed her, "Django Freeman,mam."

"Freeman," she said with a roll of her eyes as she was pulled behind him, "How creative! It's like those others that take their owner's last name. You all are a creative bunch."

She chuckled as he kicked his horse lightly and they both galloped back towards Schultz's wagon.

"You know that if you take me back into Mississippi that your status as a free man is null and void," she informed him harshly, "They'll sell you back into slavery and a young, strong, healthy buck like you, hell, your dentist friend couldn't afford to get you back."

"I ain't got the wish to be taken back into slavery," he replied quickly.

"Hmm," she said in slight annoyance as they stopped in front of Schultz, who was now standing tall beside his wagon with a rope in his hands.

"Sorry Whiskers," she announced as she pushed herself out of the saddle and off of the horse to the ground. She quickly straightened her bunched dress and smiled at her captors, "You're not going tie me up."

"Sorry can't take that chance," he informed her and held his hands out to signal for her to hand him her hands. He sighed dramatically and added, "Please, I don't want young Django to have to throw you in the dirt and stain that pretty dress of yours. It's just easier this way Miss Hatfield."

She smiled at him and replied as she held her hands out. She smiled as his well-worn hands closed around her thin wrists. She smiled as he pulled them together and wrapped the harsh rope around her wrists.

Schultz looked up at her to see that she had closed her eyes in defeat but yet held a soft smile upon her face defiantly. He couldn't help but chuckle at the woman that was now under his protection until they arrived in Mississippi.

"You are enjoying this aren't you," he asked and watched as she opened her eyes quickly to stare into his own dark chocolate orbs. She gave him a soft smile as she watched him look her up and down, "I'm going to have to take away any weapons that you may have," he watched her lift a questioning brow at his request, "For our own safety and yours."

Jack smiled as she lifted her right foot from the floor and placed it upon the wagon wheel. She looked to Schultz and then to Django who was looking at her with wide eyes.

"You want to be tarred and feathered," she asked bitterly as she glared at Django, "I suggest you keep your beady eyes forward unless you want me to cut 'em out of you and wear them as earrings."

"I ain't no slave," Django barked as he grew tired of her harsh words. She may be a woman, but her words seemed to cut deeper than the whips that the Brittle brothers were so fond of using.

She giggled at his words and then looked over to Schultz and rolled her eyes. Django was still glaring at her, ignoring her demand.

"So 'cause you are a _free man," _she said the words in a happy yet sarcastic tone, "that means that you are an equal," she laughed at Django, "Listen here sweetie, you and those other coloreds aren't gonna be seen equal in quite some time. Hell, even a white woman isn't equal to a white man."

"That's just 'cause the South ain't," Django stopped as he searched for the words that Schultz had used on their first meeting, "Enlightened."

Jack's giggles erupted into full laughter that blew over the empty, dusty space around them. She closed her eyes as the laughter took over her body like a wild demon running through her veins. She shook her head as she slowly willed the laughter out of her body.

"Honey," she said as she rolled her eyes as a few stray giggles escaped her, "Django, honey, that _enlightened _part of the country is no better than the plantations. What do they want with you all? You think that they will take care of you?"

She looked at Schultz and smiled, "You've been up there. Why don't you enlighten this young buck about the _enlightened_ part of the country?"

Schultz did not answer her and she shook her head as she looked down at her exposed ankle. She pulled her skirt up high and stopped above her thigh where she had a pistol hidden in case of emergency.

"Fine," she hissed as she looked back to Django, "The coloreds that were once sheltered on their respective plantation quarters are now freezing in the streets while they fight the plague ridden rats that share their alley way. If that's enlightened, then please let me live out my dying days in ignorance."

"I don't believe that," Django muttered as he turned away from the dark haired devil woman.

"Then don't," she answered bitterly and turned to glare at Schultz with her piercing blue eyes, "If you want the gun then take it. You've doomed me to death anyways."

Schultz quickly grabbed the pistol out of its warm home against her toned thigh. As he removed the weapon, he caught a glimpse of sadness cross over her dark blue eyes as he pulled what must have been her last hope of protection away from her. He felt a quick tug at his heart at the look that was painted upon her face, but he quickly turned away from her.

"We need to get to Nacogdoches before tomorrow," Schultz said to Django, "Uhm," he stopped and looked to Jack and then to the wagon, "We're going to have to put you in the back."

"No," she informed him quickly, "I'm not being locked up in a box. Not with the McCoy gang on the loose. I don't plan on being burned alive; it's not a pleasant way to die."

"And how you know that," Django asked as he grabbed her pistol from Schultz and placed it into his own holster.

She gave him an imposing smile and asked, "Do you know a man by the name of Carlos Kidd?"

Django shook his head. Schultz turned to her and smiled at her brightly. He quickly turned back to Django and chuckled.

"He was a train robber, killed a wagon full of Indians hoping to get some gold out of them," Schultz informed his friend.

"That's not exactly true," Jack corrected as she dropped her leg from the wheel and allowed her dress to fall back in bunches around her ankles. She smiled as she looked at the confused face upon Schultz face.

"No that's right," Schultz said, "His reward was $3,000."

"It was 4,600 dollars," she informed him as she walked passed him and jerked the reins from Django's saddle horn,"…and it was a train full of 'em."

"How you know 'bout him," Django asked as he watched the woman in red pull herself up onto her saddle.

"Open the bag," she stated casually as she rode toward Schultz. She looked down into his dark brown eyes as a smile appeared across her face. She watched him slowly move toward the leather bag and untie the flaps to reveal a large sum of money.

Schultz quickly scanned the money and then looked up to the beautiful women that shielded his view of the sunlight behind her. He smiled as he realized what she had done.

"I'm not always the bad guy," she admitted as she looked deep into his brown eyes.

"You're a bounty hunter," he asked, slightly stunned at her revelation.

"You a bounty hunter too," Django asked as he looked at the cash that was neatly tucked into her bag.

"When I'm not out for revenge then yes," she informed them both, "Men trust that a woman is a docile creature, unknown to the art of how to handle a gun, or the brains to track and kill a man."

"And the McCoy gang," Schultz asked as he closed her bag, leaving her money untouched. He watched as she lowered her gaze.

"Why'd they come looking for you," he asked, his German accent clear in his voice as he looked up at her. Her once hard features now softened in what seemed to be regret.

"I killed Jack McCoy's little brother," she informed them, "That little son of a bitch raped and murdered my little sister in New Orleans. Jack came lookin' for me and I killed him. Now the whole god damned McCoy family is out after me."

She looked over to Django and then shook her head as she looked back to Schultz. Worry filled her eyes as she felt herself falling into those dark brown chocolate orbs.

"I can't survive on my own with the McCoy gang coming after me," she whispered, "I've lived my life on the run, I can't hide anymore," she stopped and placed her tied hands upon the horn of the saddle, "You have me, I'm not gonna run off."

"What was that trick that you tried to pull earlier," Schultz asked as he eyed her over.

She smiled brightly at his question and answered, "To see if you were paying attention, and I was pleased to see that you were."

"No more tricks," she promised with a stern look upon her face, "Protect me from the McCoys, take me to Mississippi if you see fit, and the money is yours to split with young Django," she turned to Django and smiled at him, "He's going to need it if he thinks he's gonna make a new life for himself in the _enlightened _north."

Schultz smiled at her and signaled to his horse and said, "This is Fritz."

Jack smiled as she watched the horse lower his head and bellow his greetings toward her. She chuckled as she kicked her horse forward to look at Fritz. She looked to Schultz and gave him a wicked smile as she clicked her tongue against her teeth to make a unique noise.

They watched as the black and white paint horse lowered its top half low to the ground and bowed low to Fritz. Jack closed her head and bowed her head slightly as a knowing smile crossed her face as her horse rose from the ground.

"Hello Fritz," she said happy in the knowledge that this had sealed the deal with Schultz, "This is Black Jack."

...

Boyd McCoy glared down at the body of his little brother that lay on the wooden floor of the Texas bar. Anger raged through his veins as he looked at the two bullet holes inside of his younger brother.

"Who did this," he hissed in anger as he turned away from his brother's body to look at his younger cousin Tommy McCoy.

Tommy shook his head as he turned away from his cousin and looked down at the list that the bartender had handed them. Tommy was always the one given the reading tasks, being that he was the only one in the family that had learned how to read. He had been the youngest in the family and therefore never asked to help work in the fields, giving him leisurely time to fish and read on the side of the Mississippi.

"Jack Hatfield," he read aloud to his cousin as he looked at the dark ink upon the stained paper.

"Hatfield," Boyd hissed in anger as he glared at the window.

"That's Mad Jack Hatfield," Bobby McCoy, the largest of the McCoy gang, said in anger.

"Jacqueline Hatfield," Boyd said as an angered yet knowing sneer formed upon his face.

"Bartender said that some nigger and a bounty hunter came in and got her," Tommy informed Boyd quickly. "They may be taken her back to Mississippi…that is unless her family don't get to her first. They are mighty chapped at her for leaving, but of the Hatfields do get to her, what they gonna do to use when they find out what Jack did to Carolina?"

"If they get her back to Mississippi," Bobby added quickly, "They'll hang her."

Boyd smiled as he looked at Tommy. The wicked snarl grew across his face as a dark thought came over him. He looked down at his little brother and crossed his chest as he said a quick prayer for the dead.

"What if we catch her and those Hatfields," Boyd said darkly.

The sound of spurs clicked against the floor. Slight fear grew in the hearts of the McCoy boys as they moved away quickly to make room for the bulky man with a smoking pipe in his mouth. Daniel McCoy, the father to the two slain sons, walked into the room and looked down at the body of his son.

He glared down at the dried blood upon the wooden floor. His stubbornness did not allow a tear to be shed for his departed child, but an anger bubbled inside of him as he turned to Boyd.

"Who did this," he asked with a deep Southern drawl that only came from too many drunken nights and a lifetime of tobacco addiction.

"Mad Jack Hatfield, Pa," Boyd answered obediently to his large father. He watched as Daniel closed his eyes and said a quick prayer for his son.

"We'll get every last one of 'em," Bobby hissed in anger as he grabbed his gun that lay in his holster upon his hip.

Daniel looked up to Bobby and smiled darkly as the anger took over his body at the loss of two children to the dreaded Hatfield girl.

"Hatfields be damned," Daniel hissed as he watched two of his young nephews pull Jack's body from the floor to be buried in the local cemetery.

"We'll kill 'em all, Pa," Boyd whispered to his father as he moved for his brother to be carried out of the rented room above the bar.

"All of 'em."

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**Notice, that I've given the two rivals very famous last names. They are in no way related to THE Hatfields and McCoys. **

**So how about that? What do you think will happen? Thoughts? Guesses?**

**I love reviews people :)**


	4. East Texas Nights

**Chapter 4: East Texas Nights**

Django rode behind the dental carriage. He kept a sharp eye out on their bounty as she rode with her hands tied in front of her. Mad Jack hadn't tried anything funny since the deal had been struck between King and her. Schultz had decided to protect the young outlaw in exchange for cash money for some ungodly reason.

He watched as Schultz chuckled at whatever conversation that the two were having. The woman had a sharp silver tongue that also snapped like an overseer's whip on a hot summer day. Though, one thing that he had caught on to fast was that she did not call him a nigger. It was like she deemed him higher up than the common nigger in the fields. It brought an air of confidence to him to have her think of him in that regard, but it only brought to light the reality of the times that he was doomed to live in, the reality that he would never be seen as equal in the eyes of the law to a white.

He couldn't shake the feeling that some strange, unseen force was going on between the dentist turned bounty hunter and the pretty outlaw as he watched the two interact. There was no denying it. She was one of the prettiest outlaws that he had ever seen. He had talked with Schultz before they had found Mad Jack. He had asked the dentist if he had ever had a woman. He was saddened when he had found out that there had been a girl once, but she had died before he could take her as his wife.

Django couldn't help but think of what could possibly frighten her the woman that lay in wait in the great slave state of Mississippi. He knew that Mississippi frightened her; he watched the fear cross her eyes. The same fear that he had felt when his wife was branded and whipped. She had done something that was worse than any mortal sin that was for damned sure, he knew.

What had Jacqueline "Mad Jack" Hatfield done that was horrible to cause her to fear a state?

A loud chuckle pulled him away from his thoughts and back to reality. A large clearing in the middle of the tall pine forest begged them to stop and rest for the evening. The sun was quickly fading behind the trees, causing bright light to beam through the pointy leaves of the tall pines.

"It will be dark soon," Schultz announced loudly so Django could hear him over the squeaking of the wagon wheels as they flattened the fallen pine cones, "We'll camp here tonight."

"Can you at least untie me," Jack asked as she brought her loyal horse to a stop. She looked over to Schultz with a tempting smile as she held her hands out to him and added, "I promise that I won't run away."

Schultz smiled as he looked down at her extended hands, hands that were as quick as an angered rattler that had just been rudely stepped on and as soft as a newborn's skin. She owned the devil's hand that was for sure. He smiled as he patted those dangerous silky hands and turned away from her.

"Not tonight Miss Hatfield," he replied in a soft whisper, his accent was shining through each time he said her name. He caught her smiling softly at the way that he said her name.

"Call me Jack," she insisted with a smile as she lowered her hands and turned with a spin of her long dress, "Last man that called me Miss Hatfield was murdered in cold blood."

"Oh a fair lady like you didn't kill a man for calling you-"

"He died of foolishness," she informed him as she looked down to the ground as regret and guilt filled her, "A young boy, 'bout the age of sixteen," she chuckled in nervousness as she recalled the event of long ago, "Thought he was going to run off with me and be a gambler in Mexico."

"What happened to him," Django asked. Schultz and Jack turned their heads quickly to look at the inquisitive man who was unhooking Fritz from the wagon.

She smiled at him and replied, "Man by the name of James de Loach came in to get me while I was playing cards. The boy jumped up to protect my honor and James de Loach shot him dead, right through the heart."

"You shot him back," Django asked.

Jack's eyes fell back to the ground and she licked her bottom lip as regret overtook her. She shook her head as she forced herself to look back up at the freed man.

"I was able to sneak out the window and ride out of town," she admitted, "before any other shots were fired. Last I heard the bartender shot James de Loach."

Schultz watched a hard sadness come over Jack's features. He smacked his hands together to relieve the tension that had filled the East Texas air around them.

"Who's hungry," he asked as he turned to face the both of his fellow, weary travelers.

"I'm starving," Jack said as a soft smile came across her face as she watched Black Jack graze alongside the other horses as if he belonged beside them, as if he had been accepted into their small herd at first glance.

"Mr. Schultz," she whispered as she walked toward him and placed her hand upon his wrist to stop him from walking away from her. She looked over to Django who quickly averted his eyes and pretended to do something beneficial to the group.

Schultz watched as she slowly looked back up at him with a look that he had never seen before in her eyes.

"What is it," he asked then added with a small smile, "Jacqueline."

She smirked at his use of her full name and replied, "Thank you," she stopped and looked around her, "For protecting me, I mean," she shrugged her shoulders, "Not for capturing me and taking me to my ultimate death in Mississippi though."

"You're very welcome," he said with a smile as he tipped his hat to her and turned away from her.

"I'd help you," she said with a cunning smile, "But my hands are a little indisposed at the moment, so I'll just sit here."

"Oh no," Schultz announced with a loud chuckle, "It's an honor to cook for the lady of the wagon."

...

Jack smiled as she held the small tin plate in her tied hands. She carefully maneuvered the three pronged fork as she picked at the slightly burned meat upon her plate. She only took a few bites before she looked over to Schultz and then to Django who was staring at her once again with confused eyes. She smiled as she read his features easily. He was trying to figure her out, trying to understand what her motives where, and if she was still a danger to them. She smiled darkly at him, as she silently warned him that she was a danger to everyone that crossed her path.

"What are you lookin' at boy," she asked, a stern look crossed her face as she looked over to Django.

"How many people you killed," Django asked finally.

She chuckled at his question and shrugged her shoulder as she stood quickly with her plate in hand.

"That's a fair question I suppose," she said with a dark intent behind her blue eyes as she grabbed the men's empty plates and forks from them. She quickly placed them out of the way of the fire that Schultz had made for them.

"I've killed thirteen people," she admitted with a smile, "But they all in some way tried to hurt me first. Some of them were for revenge," she chuckled as she played with the rope that bound her hands together, "Everyone has their reasons for revenge these days."

She laid upon the soft ground and smiled as an owl hooted in the distance and roosting birds fluttered their feathers in the tall trees. She propped her head upon her hand and smiled at Schultz.

"I'm not really the bad guy," she whispered, "It's just the only way I can ensure my survival."

"You could have just gotten married like any other woman in the South," Schultz asked as he watched the fire's shadows dance across her creamy face and dark eyes, giving her the look of a woman that Lucifer himself had sent to tempt mortal man into a life of sin.

Jack chuckled as she looked over to him and shook her head.

"Do I look like the settling wife," she asked with a smile.

Schultz shrugged his shoulders at her question.

"I was to be married once," she admitted as her smile quickly faded away, "To a rich man with a big house."

"What happened," Django heard himself ask as he found himself, along with Schultz, caught up in her story.

"I ran away," she said, "I couldn't bare to be stuck in servitude, to be used as a mattress, and to only be seen as a hole for children to pop out of," she looked at Schultz with harsh eyes, "I may seem like some cheap floozy but believe me, I am far from it. I do believe in that little myth of love."

A long silence filled the small camp as the cool East Texas wind blew across them, causing their clothes to billow slightly in the wind. Jack shivered as she lay upon the cool ground.

"Here," Schultz announced as he stood and pulled his long gray jacket off. Jack watched with sparkling eyes as the bounty hunter walked carefully toward her and laid the jacket gently over her as she lay still upon the ground.

"Wouldn't want our asset to freeze to death," he announced as he moved away from her as she placed herself in a comfortable position upon the ground.

"I'll try my best to stay alive as long as I can," she said with a smile as she watched him take his seat beside Django who was looking into the dancing fires.

"You ever have a girl Mr. Schultz," Jack asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

Django looked up from the flames and looked over to Schultz quickly as he awaited the answer that his friend had prepared.

"I did once," Schultz said as he looked into the woman's eyes from across the fire, "She died. And call me King."

"I'm sorry," Jack said, her tone was meaningful as her gaze connected with his, "She must have been one lucky lady."

"Well," Schultz said with a modest smile and a shrug of his shoulders, "It was more of an arranged marriage sort of deal back home."

"And where is that?"

"Germany," he answered with a proud smile as he thought of his home country and the beautiful scenery.

She smiled at him and replied, "I've heard it's beautiful...and cold," she chuckled, "I'm not much one for cold weather."

Schultz laughed a hearty laugh at the words that escaped the woman's red lips. Django couldn't help but look at King Schultz with a strange confused look in his eyes. He had never seen Schultz laugh at something that wasn't even that funny. He felt as if he were intruding on some strange unheard communication between the two that seemed to rival that of the Underground Railroad. It seemed as if a strange fire had been lit between the two at their first meeting. He had wished that he had been able to go in to that bath house just to know what had been said between the two that had caused such a connection between the two.

Django smiled as the realization had dawned on him. There was an intense attraction between the two. He now understood why Schultz made the deal to keep the _outlaw_ alive, it wasn't because of the money, it was because Schultz did not want the _woman _to be harmed in any way, in the same way he had tried to protect Broomhilda from the overseers. He smiled at the symbolism. The Jack and The King together. It would make one hell of a story that he could tell his children's children.

"Well I'm mighty tired," Jack announced with a short yawn that she covered politely with her petite hands.

Django looked up from his thoughts to see that Schultz had agreed with her and made his way toward the back of the wagon. He watched as Schultz stopped quickly and turned back to look at the back of the woman on the ground.

"I feel very," Schultz paused, "guilty about letting a woman sleep on the ground. If you want, you can sleep in the wagon."

Jack smiled as she pushed herself from the ground to look back at the bounty hunter. She shook her head and politely declined his kind offer and laid back down to the ground.

"Besides the ground is softer than those boards within that wagon," she announced as she closed her eyes and allowed sleep to come over her as the fire cackled in front of her.

...

The fire had died down to only a smolder as the sound of Black Jack's tugging from the tree that he was tied to awoke Jack from her slumber. Jack pushed herself from the ground and looked around her quickly as the sounds of the crickets, locusts, and frogs sing in the trees surrounding the small camp. Django slept under the wagon and Schultz was lightly snoring inside of his wagon.

Jack smiled as she looked down at her hands to see a small shiny object reflecting in the moon light. They had severely overlooked her intelligence as she quickly shoved the silver object back under her long sleeves.

Schultz's jacket fell from her shoulders as she slowly and silently stood from the ground. Black Jack whinnied and pulled against the tree as if a threatening animal was hiding in wait inside the dark bushes that surrounded him.

Jack hurriedly moved passed the wagon where the two men slept. She stopped momentarily as she heard Django move under the wagon in his sleep. As he finally found a comfortable position in his sleep, she continued toward her horse and placed her hands against his long forehead. She looked into his dark eyes and smiled at him.

"Shhh," she whispered to the large animal, "You'll wake the dead Jack."

Black Jack pawed at the ground and snorted as she looked into the darkness that surrounded them.

"There's nothin' out there Jack," she reassured the skittish animal. He had never acted in such a way before and she felt like something was very, very wrong.

She lowered her gaze but perked her ears in an effort to hear passed the critter's various calls and to hear if a predator was lurking nearby. She hummed softly to calm her animal down.

"I know these hills," she sang softly to Black Jack as she patted his toned neck, "Stone in the earth, rain in the sky, blood on the blade, hear the angels cry. Remember my name, the look in my eyes, oh I, oh I," she stopped as the sound of a stick cracked from close by, "I know these hills."

She continued to hum as she looked passed the bushes and trees that surrounded them. Black Jack pawed at the ground aggressively as she turned to look back at the wagon. Her blood ran cold as she felt a hard touch against her back. She closed her eyes as she realized that she was at the firing end of a gun.

"Walk forward Mad Jack," a hushed voice of a man that she did not recognize demanded and pushed her forward, "And no funny business, don't think I won't shoot you dead."

She nodded as she did as the unknown, unseen man demanded. She walked quickly, but silently, away from the camp site, but not without leaving an untied Black Jack and a newly awoken Django behind her…


	5. Little Trouble Maker

**Chapter 5: Little Trouble Maker**

Jack looked up from her place by the burning fire in the new campsite. She smiled brightly as she looked over to the sleeping man beside her. She'd be able to take them easily if the sleeping man were to stay asleep during the encounter.

"You gotta pretty bounty on your head sugar," the large burly man that had caught her at gunpoint in the dark had said.

She looked up to him and smiled as she took in his sullied appearance. She could smell the foul stench of tobacco radiated from him as he smiled an offensive yellow smile as he took in her own clean appearance. A deputy's star upon his black vest sparkled in the light of the fire.

"Tell me, Mad Jack," he sneered at her given nickname, "Give me one good reason I shouldn't shoot you dead right now?"

Jack sneered at his question and then allowed a soft chuckle to escape her as she took in his serious demeanor. He glared at her in an intensity that only the dead shared with him.

"Besides the fact that you're wearing' a star," she let her Southern accent saturate her words as she looked into his green eyes, "you can't allow yourself to unsee the line on that flyer of who is offerin' that mighty big bounty on me. You want to get in good. Maybe get all the nigger whores you can instead of money. No self respectin' white Southern gal would come near-"

A sudden, hard hit came from the side of her. She stumbled sideways momentarily as an immense pain shot from the side of her lips down her neck from the butt of the long rifle that the muscle bound man had hit her with.

"You mind your 'od damned tongue," the man demanded harshly as he watched blood trickle from the corner of her perky lips and down her thin neck only to stop just above her perky bosom, "You treat Shiloh Dixon with some 'od damned respect."

She chuckled as she licked the blood from the side of her lips and looked at the still sleeping man in the corner. She smiled at the luck that she had. Everything would fall into place once the deputy had fallen asleep. She giggled softly to herself as she pushed herself from the ground and stared darkly into Shiloh Dixon's green eyes.

"Well Deputy Dixon," she said with a wicked grin, "You have me, I'm not goin' anywhere. But what you going to do about that German fellow and his slave that are sleeping right across the way over there?"

"Oh we'll be gone before they awake," Shiloh informed her quickly, "I'm gonna make sure that I get you back up to Mississippi personally."

She smiled at him with dark blue eyes and whispered, "I wouldn't have it anyway else Deputy Dixon. She looked at the soft ground beside the dire and smiled as she added, "Do I have your permission to sleep until you decide what time to conveniently wake me?"

Shiloh smiled at Mad Jack and nodded as he said, "Don't try nothin' stupid, I ain't got no qualms with hittin' a woman and messin' up that pretty lil face of yours."

"No worries from me," Jack said with a soft smile as she laid on the cool ground and watched the tree line. She could hear soft crackles inside the darkness and smiled wickedly as she watched the man trying to find a comfortable position. She watched as he placed his hat on his chest and closed his eyes.

Jack looked over to the tree line and smiled as she placed her index finger against her bloodied lips to keep the hidden figure hiding within the tree line quiet. She looked over to the deep sleeper and smiled as she waited for Shiloh Dixon to fall asleep.

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into an hour. Shiloh had finally fallen into a deep sleep and light snores were filling the East Texas pine forest. Jack smiled as she pushed herself slowly from her place beside the crackling fire.

She looked down at her tied hands and smiled as her wicked plan started to unfurl with each soft step she made toward the sleeping deputy. The bloody deed would soon come to a quick end just as quickly as it had started.

Django watched with curiosity as Mad Jack threw herself on top of the man in a quick yet silent flash. He watched as her hands rose above her head and slammed down into the man with the star's neck. Blood flew with each blow that she landed in his throat. The light of the fire reflected something silver moving up and down from the man's throat.

Jack held on to the three pronged fork tightly as she jerked it out of the bone out of man's neck. Blood flowed quickly out of Shiloh's neck as she continued to slam the three sharp metal prongs into his large artery. Anger moved through her as she recalled the pain that had jolted through her body when he had hit her across the face with the long rifle.

"You son of a bitch," she hissed as she pulled herself away from his throat, leaving the silver fork stuck inside his slit throat. It glittered in the firelight as thick blood fell stained the polished silver fork.

"What the 'od damned hell," the voice of the man from behind her screamed as he took in the scene of his dead friend. He quickly jumped to his feet and aimed his pistol at the back of Jack's head.

Jack turned quickly to see the man glaring down at her with dark brown eyes. She shrugged her shoulders as she watched him pull the pin back on his rifle, readying himself to shoot her dead.

A shot echoed through the pine forest. Birds flew from the trees in an attempt to escape the unseen predator that had awoken their sleep. Jack watched as blood burst out of the man's chest and landed onto her porcelain white skin, his blood mixing in with her own blood. She watched with a smile as the man fell backwards and into the fire.

"Well that takes care of the burial cost," she whispered with a smile as she turned quickly to see Django standing behind her holding his gun up. Smoke rose from the fired gun from the bullet that had saved her life.

"It's about time you showed up," she informed him harshly as she looked up at him; a groan from Deputy Dixon filled the silence that came between the two.

Django placed his gun back in its holster on his hip and walked toward the woman. He took in the amount of blood that covered her face; he could see the deep cut of her lip from the forceful hit that she had received only an hour ago.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Django said as he helped her from the ground.

Jack pulled away from him quickly as he tried to place his dark hands upon her bloodied hands, "Don't touch me!"

He glared down at her tied hands as he pulled out a long Bowie knife from his side pocket. He watched as slight fear filled her eyes as he moved close to her with the long, sharp knife.

"You going to kill me now," she asked harshly as she glared down at the sparkling blade.

"No," Django admitted in a nonchalant tone as he cut the ropes that bound her hands together, "You just as dangerous with your hands tied."

She smiled at him as the blood soaked ropes fell to the ground. She looked at the small camp and then back to Django.

"They may have some extra supplies," she said with a wicked smile, "Look through it and bring it back to us."

Django was about to argue with her demand and remind her that he was no longer a slave, but she had already walked passed him back toward the dental carriage where Schultz had been awoken by the sound of the gunshot that had rippled through the woods.

Jack looked down at her bloodied wrists and messaged them lightly where the rope had been bound to her skin. She smiled at her new found freedom, but felt somewhat unnerved by the fact that Django had saved her. She had wanted to tell him how thankful she was for his intrusion, but the words were unable to be formed; she had found it easier to give him a demand than to tell him thank you.

"What happened," she heard the German accented voice of King Schultz announce from in front of her.

She looked up quickly at him with a soft smile tugging at the corner of her busted lip. She watched as a look of concern came across his face and she felt her own heart dare to skip a beat without her permission.

"What happened to your face," Schultz asked as he held his hands out to her, a silent order for her to come to him immediately. She followed his silent order and walked toward him, placing her cold, bloodied hands into his warm, well-worn hands. She smiled as he pulled her toward the wagon where he had lit a lantern.

"I was kidnapped," she explained as he sat her down on the hard wood of the wagon and examined her bloodied face.

"Oh you didn't try to run away," he asked in slight disbelief as he dabbed a fresh handkerchief with whiskey. His dark eyes glittered in the light of the lantern as he took in the sharp features of the woman in front of him.

"We had a deal," she reminded him as he dabbed the whiskey soaked cloth softly against the cut on her lip, "Oww!"

"Oh so sorry," he stated softly, "I forgot to say it would sting."

She rolled her eyes as she looked into his sparkling eyes.

"Django shot the other one," she said as she watched Black Jack settle back into his spot beside the other horses, "Sorry about the fork, it's lodged into Deputy Dixon's windpipe."

Schultz tisked her as he wiped the blood to reveal the soft magnolia white flesh that lived comfortably underneath it. He moved her neck to the side as he removed the remaining blood from her neck. He stopped as he looked down at the remaining blood on her chest; he wasn't sure if he should continue on or allow her to clean what was left of her.

"Here," he whispered as he handed her the cloth, "to clean the rest of you."

Jack gave him a thankful smile, for she had been wondering the same thing. Though a deeper part of her wanted him to continue, but her more rational side had wanted him to be a perfect European gentleman. She took the rag from him and cleaned the blood off of her chest and then removed the caked on blood from her long fingers.

"You are such the little trouble maker, aren't you," he said teasingly with a smile as Django emerged from the darkness of the pine tree line carrying a large bag of provisions and a new bottle of whiskey for the cold nights that they would soon be facing.

"Hey lil trouble maker," Django announced as he looked at the newly cleaned outlaw that sat beside Schultz. He could see the twinkle in both their eyes as they forced themselves to pull away from each other's gaze to look at him.

"Well," Schultz announced as he clapped his hands together, "I think it's time we all got back to sleep if we want to get to Nacogdoches before nightfall."

Jack smiled as Schultz looked back at her and said, "The little troublemaker will sleep in the wagon for the rest of the night."

She smiled at the new nickname that she had acquired. It was so much better than Mad Jack. She could get used to how the nickname rolled off of King's German tongue. She felt a slight giddiness come over her at the thought of that European tongue, but she quickly dismissed it as she pushed herself back into the wagon and laid down to wait for sleep to overcome her once again.

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**And there is 5. I would really, really, really love some reviews. There are stories in this section with over 100 reviews. I've never gotten that many! It's like my dream to have that many for one story. **

**And plus your reviews honestly help me flesh out this story. There is a gem in each review that I read.**

**So please, please review. Please? :)**

**So is there going to be a relationship between Schultz & Jack? Will Jack ever thank Django? Did you like the "lil trouble maker" line? I thought it was cute. **


	6. The Promise

**Chapter 6: The Promise**

**A/N: This is more of a filler chapter tis why it's very short, but I hope you like it! :)**

* * *

A sharp pain bolted through Jack's body as she was jerked from a dreamless, uncomfortable deep sleep. Her hand instantly went to her temple as agony rushed through her as if she had drank way too much watered down liquor from the local whore house while cleaning up the house in cards. Memories from the night entered her cluttered mind as she pushed herself from her makeshift bed inside the wooden dental carriage.

The lull of the wheels beating against the well-worn path signaled to her that she had been left asleep as they readied themselves to leave the piney woods where they had slept soundly through the rest of the night.

Jack moved quickly toward the closed doors and pushed gently against it as she heard the voice of Schultz talking to Django of his home in Germany. She ignored his rhythmic, cultured voice as she pushed against the wooden planks. Her heart beat like the thumping of a herd of wild horses across the grassy plains as slight fear and complete anger bubbled with a fiery intensity inside of her at the thought of being locked up in the small wagon.

"You son of a bitch," she screamed in anger as she made her way back to the front of the wagon. She peeked through the small holes in the wood to see Schultz back. She groaned in anger, her breath making an almost animalistic hissing noise as she looked up at him. She felt her emotions became almost erratic as she glared into the back of his head.

"You son of a bitch," she hissed as she banged on the wooden planks. Jack smiled as she watched him jerk slightly as giggles escaped him, "Unlock this god damned wagon now!"

Schultz giggled at the outlaw's harsh demand. He turned slightly to look down at her to see her bright blue eyes glaring up from a hole in the wooden planks. Sweat from the dry East Texas humidity formed across her pale forehead and dampened her hair as she looked at him with angered eyes.

"Such language Fraulein," he announced as a singsong voice, a chuckle escaped his jovial tone as he listened to her teeth grit together in anger, "No worries, my dear, Black Jack is here with us as happy as a pony should be."

"You let me out of here," she demanded harshly as she banged her hand against the wooden planks. She was quickly losing her temper with this German man and not many men survived her anger, "I don't want to kill you but I will," she stopped and looked around her as she tried to develop a plan on freeing herself from the humid confines of inside the wagon, "I have a gun."

He chuckled at her once again and said, "And Django and I both know that's not true."

She groaned and pushed herself closer to the boards. Her nose was touching against the hot planks as she glared at him. Her heart beat erratically as she glared at the man that had finally captured her.

"You tricked me," she whispered, murderous intentions dripped from her hissing whispers as she thought of how he offered her his place inside the wagon after her _stressful_ abduction in the middle of the night while everyone else slept soundlessly.

"I did nothing of the sort," he paused as Fritz swatted a horse fly from his rump and kicked slightly, "Jack. You looked so peaceful sleeping that we-"

"Then stop and let me out," she demanded, this time with a softer, more pleading voice, "Please, I don't want to die in here. If the McCoys were to stumble upon you, they wouldn't think twice about lighting me up."

He smiled as he looked down at her blue eyes that looked up at him. He could see the hidden danger that she tried so desperately to hide within those dark blue orbs of hers. Those eyes of hers had been the death of many a man, he had known. Jacqueline Hatfield wasn't one to be trusted easily.

"Well I'd love to Jack," he said with a smile as the wagon jerked back and forth over the rocky road, "But you see our necks," he motioned to Django who was riding beside him, "mine and Django's both, we quite like them…and well," he chuckled, "it's safer for our necks if you are in there for the time being."

"You don't trust me," she asked, her voice feigning sadness as she looked up at him.

Schultz looked down at her and gave her a soft smile as he shrugged his shoulders and said simply with his accented voice, "Not at this particular moment in time, no."

She groaned once again at her situation. Being locked away with a gang of wild men coming after you, a group of wild men that wanted her dead in the most bloodiest of ways, was not her ideal situation. Trembles of anger ran through her body as she wiped sweat from her brow.

"Dr. Schultz," she begged as she looked up at the back of his head, "King, please, let me out."

He smiled and looked over to Django. He could hear her breathing hard from the anger that radiated inside of her pale body. Her anger was almost tangible in the East Texas air as her sharp gaze stabbed repeatedly into his back. If looks could kill, he would have been bludgeoned to death by her stare.

"I'd afraid not."

He chuckled as she pounded on the wood planks as if she were a young spoiled child that had not received her chosen toy at Christmas time.

"I AM NOT CHATTEL," she screamed at him as she pounded her flat palm against the wooden boards. She felt hot tears of rage forming in her eyes as she glared at the man that was now chuckling like a mad hatter at her misfortune.

"I'm not some cheap whore," she hissed in anger, for she truly felt as if she were being treated as chattel, "and nor am I some cheap nigger that can be sold back to Mississippi!"

"Oh my dear," he said as he listened to her angered words fade away like dust in the wind, "Don't take it as an insult."

Jack did not say anything as she sighed softly and lowered her eyes to her dirtied velvet riding boots. Her hands moved her fallen hair from her eyes as she willed her anger away. She closed her eyes as she allowed the worry and the stress fall over her shoulders like the world had been placed upon her shoulders to carry for the rest of her numbered days.

Schultz turned softly at her lack of a response. He smiled as he saw strands of her dark hair fluttering in the soft wind that blew across the seat. Her abrupt silence had taken him by surprise for he had believed that she was one that would always have the last word in any conversational setting.

This silence was different though.

"Fraulein," he said as he tried to pull her out of this uncharacteristic silence.

He quickly looked over to Django who was looking straightforward to see the small town that they were soon to be entering. Schultz knew that there was nothing Django could offer on this girl, because this girl was like no other girl that they had ever met. She had the cunning of a lethal cat, the murderous courage of the devil, the mind of a well taught scholar based upon her quick tongue, eyes that could quite possibly put the sea to shame, and the ability to always be one step ahead of her pursuers.

Mad Jack Hatfield was an enigma within an enigma to him and a certain part of him desperately wanted to unravel the mystery of this woman.

"Don't let them kill me, King," he heard her whisper with a since of great sadness that jerked at his heart. Her voice was so soft that it sounded as if she had no intention of wanting him to overhear her worried words. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice, the exhaustion from running for so long, the exhaustion of trying so hard.

"You have my word Jacqueline," he promised in a soft whisper, "I promise you on my life that I will not let you be killed or in any way maimed on this little adventure of ours."

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**So just a little Schultz/Jack moment there. **

**You like?**

**Reviews are loved and cherished until death do us part! :)**


	7. Nacogdoches

**Chapter 7: Nacogdoches**

Outside Nacogdoches

Django opened the back door of the dental carriage with a large smile on his face as he looked down at the angered woman that they had left locked inside. He knew that if looks could kill, he would be six feet under already. Her eyes stabbed daggers, or rather forks, into his throat as he held his calloused hands toward her to help her out of the wagon.

"Don't touch me," Jack hissed bitterly as she slowly pushed herself out of the cell that she had been confined to for most of the day. Sweat beaded down her paler than usual skin, she slowly stood up to look for Schultz to give him a proper tongue lashing, but an intense dizziness came over her body as she tried to move.

"Whoa now," Django announced as he watched the outlaw's wobbly legs attempt to buckle from under her. He watched as she quickly leaned against the wooden planks of the wagon. He slowly extended his arm out and touched her upper back as she took in deep breaths.

"What's wrong," Django asked as he looked up to King Schultz who was now pulling himself from the front of the wagon to check on the frail outlaw. He jumped quickly from his place and hurried to the girl who kept her eyes closed. A look of intense pain came over sharp features as she allowed herself to fall to the dusty ground.

Schultz hurried to her side and placed his hand under her chin. He slowly pulled her chin up and forced her eyes to look up at him. He felt guilt tug at him as her weak dark blue eyes looked up at him. He knew exactly what was wrong with her.

"Water now," he demanded quickly of Django, "She's dehydrated."

"Where are we," she asked as she looked into his worried eyes.

"Na-COG-doches," he answered, his accent thick, as he let his thumb lightly move over her jawline absentmindedly. Jack smiled faintly and leaned into his soft touch. She allowed a whispered chuckle to escape her at his slight ignorance.

"It sounds like Nac-AH-doches," she informed him with a smile as Django hurried back with a full canteen in hopes of rehydrating the weak and dehydrated woman. He had seen some field slaves fall victim to dehydration and the result was them being whipped repeatedly until the dropped dead where they stood. He looked over to Schultz who was quickly unhinging the top of the canteen and placing it against the woman's lips, which just hours ago had been rosy but where now chapped from the Texas heat that had beat down on the wagon. No doubt that the wagon was more like an oven.

"I am so sorry Fraulein," Schultz whispered with all honesty in his tone as he watched small drops of water race down her chin, down her long neck, and disappearing before their eyes down the top of her blouse.

She smiled at him as she looked at him. Her weak eyes searched his worried face and felt her heart flutter slightly against her will. She knew then that his previous promise would be kept. She knew then that he truly cared about him as much as he cared about Django, who she still owed her life to. She owed both men her life. She owed them everything.

"Thank you," she whispered as she licked her chapped lips. She smiled as Black Jack jerked from his tied position and made his way toward her.

Schultz and Django watched as the loyal horse made his way toward her and stomped at the ground in front of her as demanding that she stand up from the dirty ground. They watched as Jack pulled herself from the ground with wobbling legs and made her way toward her animal.

A dark smile came over Jack's smile as she hid herself from the two men behind the loyal Black Jack. A dark thought came across her mind as she looked at her saddle and slowly slid her slender hand into a hidden pocket inside the many folds of her dirt covered dress. Her long fingers caressed the cold metal of the weapon that was hidden there.

"I don't think that," Schultz announced as he held his hand out in an attempt to stop her from getting atop the beast, "…that in your condition that you should be riding-"

"Sorry boys," she announced in a sing song voice as a large smile painted her face like a devil summoned out of Hell to run amok on the world above, "But I couldn't just allow myself to go into a town without a gun."

Django quickly made a move for his own gun on his hip as he stared at the 1855 Root Revolver that she held steady in her pale hands. He hadn't even seen her moving for it. She was one of the quickest that he had ever seen with a gun.

"Ah ah ah," she announced as she clicked her tongue against the rood of her mouth. Her hands were straight as she glared at the two men. Her eyes were no longer weary from the supposed dehydration from before as she looked at them with a victorious gleam in her eyes.

"Now," she announced as she moved in front of her horse to stand in front of the two men, "I have no intentions of killin' either of you," she laughed as she moved the gun between the two, "nor do I plan on running away from you two fine gentleman; you do take such great care of me," she smiled as she looked at Schultz and shrugged happily, "but we got ourselves a lil problem."

"And what is that," Schultz asked as he looked from the dark pistol up her steady arms and up to her intense dark blue eyes.

"You have my favorite gun," she informed him with a smile, "And I like that gun. I also have no intention of going into a town to gamble and drink while you two do whatever it is you do without it."

Schultz looked over to Django and smiled at him as he said, "Ya know she's pretty good with that."

"She fast," Django concluded as he looked at Schultz.

"I want my gun," she demanded harshly, "Now."

"Okay, okay," Schultz said with a smile as he moved his gray jacket to the side to grab the pistol that he had worn against his hip, "It is a lovely gun."

She smiled as she watched him extend her sparkling pistol toward her. She quickly grabbed it and smiled as she opened the chamber to see that her bullets was still in their beds sleeping like young children exhausted from a long day's work in the field.

"Thank you boys," she announced with a smile as she lowered the pistol away from the two men, "I'm glad we have peacefully come to this agreement."

Schultz smiled as he watched the tenacious woman pocket her beautiful polished pistol into her pocket and masterfully pull herself onto her saddle without even showing her underskirts.

"Now Django," she announced happily, "You can have this gun…as a token of our newfound agreement."

Django looked up at Jack in confusion as he watched her hold the revolver out to him. He walked slowly toward her; worry filled him as he moved to take the deadly weapon from her.

"There we go," she announced with a condescending smile as she looked down on him, "That's a good boy. You take care of that gun ya hear?"

"I hear," he answered with bitter sarcasm as he placed the gun on his holster. He watched as she lightly kicked Black Jack in the flanks to move him forward.

"Come on boys," she announced in yet another sing song voice, "Nacogdoches is waiting for us. And I am about to go crazy if I don't take money from shit card players soon."

Schultz smiled as he watched the woman slowly move ahead of them. She had one upped them with her great acting skills and he had foolishly trusted her, something that he had told himself not to do.

"How come you just let her have that gun," Django asked.

"Why not," Schultz asked as he made his way to his place on the wagon.

Django shook his head as he moved to get upon his horse and follow the two white folks that he was damned to be with. Though, he was enjoying watching Schultz and Mad Jack play on each other.

...

Nacogdoches

Looks of distrust came from all over the small town of Nacogdoches as the small group made their way toward the local saloon. Jack rode ahead of them and smiled as she spied a bar where there would most certainly be a card game going on.

Cards had always been her game. Men did not expect a woman that looked like her to have the knowledge to play a damned good hand. They saw her as an easy target, that was until they found themselves losing their well-earned money to her.

Schultz made his way behind her and watched as she pulled herself off of her horse and tied him around a hitching post in front of a small hotel.

"We'll stay here for the night," she said with a smile as she pointed to the small store across the street, "I need a new dress. Would you like to help me pick one out King?"

She smiled sweetly, sweeter than she had ever smiled in her adulthood. She waited patiently as he tied Fritz to the hitching post beside Black Jack and made his way up to her with a slight skip in his step.

"WHAT'S THAT NIGGER DOIN' UP ON THAT HORSE," a burly, lice infected drunkard announced as he wobbled out of the bar and into the street. Django ignored the man as he pulled himself off the horse and tied him beside Black Jack.

"Niggers don't tie their nags in front of a white establishment," the man slurred as he glared at Django.

Jack smiled as she watched Django try to ignore the man as he continued tending to his horse. She turned to Schultz who was glaring at the drunkard who was throwing insults at Django simply based on the color of his skin.

"Come Dr. King," she announced happily as she laced her hand within the crook of his elbow, "let's go shopping."

She pulled him away though he tried to remain firm in his place. She could see him playing with the idea of killing the drunkard in the street which brought a wide smile to her face as they crossed the dirt street toward the small shop.

"Django's a free man," Jack whispered with a smile, "He can take care of himself. Why would he want a white man to take care of his battles for him when he's a free man?"

She watched as Schultz kept his watchful eye on Django.

"YOU DEAF BOY?!"

She watched as he quickly moved to use his pistol hidden within the confines of his shirt sleeve. She grabbed his wrist and jerked it away from Django.

"Let me remind you," she hissed in his ear, she was so close to him that she could smell the faint hint of tobacco upon his skin, "that he is not a wanted man. Your jurisdiction is invalid here. Might as well drop all morals to the ground, King."

Schultz turned to look at her. He could smell the fading scent of her jasmine perfume upon her pale neck as he looked into her hard blues eyes. He knew that she spoke the truth. The United States was something way more unnerving than Germany. Never had he seen such acts of human cruelty as he had seen in the South. He looked at her harden eyes and understood everything that she was. She was the reality of the world around him. He had seen how she treated Django with some sense of dignity that she was not some uppity plantation owner, but the way that she had deemed herself better than a common slave was the reality that he was living in.

She was reality with its breathtaking beauty and its dark, deplorable sins. She was more than just a woman or an outlaw to him now. She was something that meant more than that. She was real.

...

It did not take long for Jack to find a dress that was to her liking. She had grand, expensive taste in clothes and what she was wearing reflected that trait. She smiled as she looked down at Schultz who had been sitting patiently in the chair for minutes just waiting for her to come out of the dressing room to present what dress she had chosen.

"What do you think," she asked with a smile as she turned daintily and raised her arms up slightly. She smiled as she watched Schultz's eyes grow big as he took in the beauty of how her now fallen hair fell over her white blouse, which gave her the appearance of the fairy tale figure Snow White. Her long skirt was a simple black but had intricate cuts to make the piece quite unique. A sparkling silver necklace fell between the ruffled collar of the blouse and hung tantalizingly close to her cleavage.

"Oh Fraulein," he said with a smile as he looked at her as a sense of pride came over him, "This can't just be for me."

Jack chuckled at his words and spun around childlike, allowing her skirts to billow around her.

"Of course not Dr. King," she announced happily, "It gives me a more dangerous appearance. For what man would suspect that a woman dressed so daintily is wanted dead or alive?"

He smiled as she reached out to him and grabbed both his hands like a child wishing to be spun by her father. He did as she wished and allowed her to wrap her pale hands around his own.

"I can get back the money I spent on this for you," she said happily, "I can win it back for-"

"HEY NIGGER! YOU DON'T BE EYE BALLIN' ME BOY!"

Schultz watched as Jack rolled her eyes in anger and turned away from him. He watched as she lifted her new skirts from the dusty floor and walked onto the wooden porch. He quickly followed her outside to see that she was already walking toward the bar like she hadn't a care for the atrocious words that the drunkard was slurring at Django who was silently taking the abuse.

A shot rang out through the small East Texas town and men and women hurried out of the line of fire in fear that a shootout was about to unfold.

Schultz watched as the vile drunkard fell onto his back in the urine and feces soaked dirt with a bullet wound in the middle of his forehead. A woman screamed at the sight and unloaded the contents of her stomach beside Schultz who was hurrying to Django and Jack's side.

"Who did that," Jack asked happily as she looked around the town, her hands free of a gun. The smoking gun now lay safely inside the pockets of her new dress. She had shot so fast that no one had even seen her pulling and shooting the gun.

No one had seen her.

She turned to Django and glared at him harshly. She could see the pain in his eyes that he tried so desperately to hide.

"You listen to me," she said sternly as she placed her hands upon his shoulders as if she were his mother readying to lecture him, "They're just words. Words cannot hurt you."

She watched as the sheriff hurried toward them to investigate, but someone had already intercepted him. Someone that she knew very well, someone that she owed a lot to. She looked back at Django and smiled proudly at him.

"It's like that little poem," she said with a happy smile.

"What's a poem?"

She chuckled at his ignorance, a harsh reminder of just where he had come from and what necessities he had lacked.

"It's a rhyme of sorts," she answered, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me."

"You killed that man," Django asked in confusion as he looked to the dead man in the street and then back to her, "For me? 'Cause what he said?"

"No," she answered with a Southern drawl, "Now don't be gettin' any ideas that I did this for you. He was gettin' on my nerves. Nothin' more."

* * *

**And there is 7! Also I looked up the famous poem, I found a place where it said the first place it showed up was in 1862, but it hinted to the saying being used before...so I'm thinking that it was around this time frame that we are in.**

**So do you like how Jack is slowly starting to warm up to Django? I thought it was rather symbolic of her.**

**What about her and Schultz? **

**Who's the mystery person that stopped the sheriff?**

**Where are the McCoys? What is to happen if they find her?!**

**Review! Tell me everything that you think :)**


	8. Dependence

**Chapter 8: Dependence**

**A/N: Sorry if the pacing is kind of slow. I just want to make sure that you are understanding the characters. I was going to make this longer but I decided to split it up.**

**Also I suck at Spanish so I just went to a translation web site. So forgive me if they are wrong.**

* * *

Jack smiled as she looked over to the Indian man speaking with the sheriff in order to explain what he had seen. True that normally an Indian's word was never taken seriously, but this Indian man's word was taken for truth when he spoke. She smiled as she placed her hand upon Schultz's elbow and pulled him happily beside her as if they were a courting couple.

"King," she whispered with a bright smile as they walked toward the Indian in dark colored clothes, rather dapper for his given race, "I want to introduce you to an old friend."

The sheriff moved away from the Indian, pleased with whatever lie he had just been given. He smiled brightly at the handsome couple that he walked past. He smiled at Jack and she politely returned his smile with a soft, innocent smile of her own.

"Evenin'," he announced with a distinctive East Texas accent as he continued on his trek before barking orders at the locals to rid the streets of the dead drunkard.

Jack looked over to Schultz and smiled as they stopped in front of the Indian that had protected them from the wrath of an East Texas sheriff that believed himself to be wholly good no matter what person's life he destroyed.

"Hola Bali," she announced happily with a learned Spanish accent as she looked into the familiar sharp facial features of the Indian that she had known so well. She slowly unhooked her arm out of Schultz's own warm arm and threw her arms around the man, embracing him with a familial love that Schultz remembered from is times growing up in a rather small house in Germany.

"¿Qué te trae aquí," Bali asked with a large smile upon his handsome features as his brown eyes took in the woman in front of him.

'_What brings you here_,' Schultz smiled. He had learned from many experiences with the natives further west that they had taken up speaking Spanish when talking to the white man. He smiled as he looked over to the smiling woman that seemed to be oblivious to the idea that he understood every word that escaped her perky lips.

Schultz smiled as he looked at the very tall, well-toned Cherokee. He seemed to resemble the stereotypical illustrations of the "savages" though he held no feathers within his straight long black hair that stopped just above his shoulders. The Cherokee's face was chiseled and his eyes held an understanding of the earth that no white man in these parts truly understood. Schulz quickly turned to Jack and smiled meekly as he looked into her blue eyes and quickly found that same understanding, now hitting him in the face instead of hiding away.

"Mis nuevos amigos," she said as she motioned to Schultz by her side and to Django still by the horses, "me están escoltando a Mississippi, sobre todo contra mi voluntad."

'_My new friends are escorting me to Mississippi, mostly against my will.'_

Schultz knew that his performance of ignorance was working as he watched Jack speak naturally and unafraid manner with her seeming to be longtime friend. He contented in watching her features as she spoke the wild language as if she were a naturally born Spanish speaker . He soon felt a tug at his heart at the lack of German speaking people's in his life that he could enjoy simple conversations with as it seemed this Cherokee Indian and Jack were enjoying.

"Ah. Escuchamos sobre su hermana pobre," Bali said with a sad tone in his voice as he grabbed Jack's hand and caressed it softly in a sympathizing manner.

'_Ah. We heard about your poor sister_,' Schultz watched as Jack nodded her head at the man's words, but instinctively removed his hand from her own in a manner that reminded him that she was indeed reality and that no matter what she would not allow society to see her as cavorting with what they deemed savage creatures.

"Ella está en el cielo ahora y el hombre que hizo que a ella está en el infierno donde pertenece," she stated as she shrugged her shoulders simply and then turned to Schultz, giving him a soft smile.

'_She's in Heaven now and the man that did that to her is in Hell where he belongs.'_

He watched as Bali looked him over carefully, taking in Jack's close standings with him as if they were on more than personal relations.

Bali smiled and pointed to Schultz and asked, "¿Quién es este diablo barbudo que está contigo? Sus ojos parecen haber visto en ninguna ropa en absoluto."

'_Who is this bearded devil that is with you? His eyes seem to have seen you in no clothes at all.'_

Schultz tried desperately to hide his amusement at such a statement and his anxiousness to hear Jack's response. He had indeed seen her without her clothes on, well most of them, but it still counted in his mind. It wasn't an everyday experience in his life to see a beautiful woman naked in his presence.

"Ah, mi captor guapo, el Dr. King Schultz de Alemania," Jack smiled brightly as she turned to Schultz and placed an arm around his shoulder as she placed a small peck upon his cheek. He felt his heart skip a slight beat at the touch of her hand and of her lips. The amount of space between the two was not the normal amount of space that one would see between bounty and bounty hunter it was more of the space that was shared between two long term lovers that have loved each other for an eternity. The tension between the two was almost tangible as she pulled away from him.

"Schultz," she announced happily, "This is Bali. He and his tribe took me in when I first ran away from Mississippi. They are like a second family to me. Treated me as one of their own. He's like my brother."

Schultz smiled as he extended his hand toward the Cherokee and said, "Hola Bali."

"¿Por qué no mató le todavía," Bali asked as he finished the handshake and looked back to Jack with a look of disbelief in his eyes.

Schultz held in the chuckle that he greatly wished to allow it to see the world. The question that was put to Jack was why he hadn't killed her yet. Even he hadn't an answer for that. He would kill a wanted man without so much as a blink, but he had taken her alive and had even agreed to protect her.

"Porque él no puede traer a matar a algo que es intrínsecamente inocentes... y el hecho de que está realmente interesado en mí. Me atrevería a decir que yo tenía sueños de lo más provocativo últimamente. Sueños muy unladylike, si su imaginación pequeña debe facilitar la comprensión," she confided with a wicked grin as she watched Bali chuckle at her inappropriate words.

'_Because he cannot bring himself to kill something that is inherently innocent…and the fact that he is indeed interested in me. I daresay I had dreams of the most provocative nature as of late. Very unladylike dreams, if your tiny imagination needs help understanding,' _Schultz felt a blush paint his fuzzy cheeks and he quickly turned to look over to see where Django had escaped off to, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Sí entiendo," Bali answered with a chuckle, "Lo tienes en la espalda al final del mes."

'_Yes I do understand. You will have him on his back at the end of the month.'_

Schultz watched as Jack's jaw dropped at the man's speculation. He watched as she placed her hands upon her hips, readying herself to defend herself from the slightly vulgar comment. She merely laughed at the man's words.

"Mi reputación no es muy cierto. No tengo la más mínima quiere hacer nada impropio. Pero yo no sería contra él contar conmigo en mi espalda. Los europeos conocen violentamente a ser genial en esa sección de la vida," she informed him with a loud chuckle as she linked her elbow with Schultz's once again.

'_My reputation is wildly untrue. I haven't the slightest want to do anything unbecoming. But I wouldn't be against him having me on my back. Europeans are wildly known to be amazing in that section of life.'_

"Bali, Bali," a young feminine voice announced in a hurried tone.

Bali turned around quickly to see a young girl rushing toward him with a very noticeable frown of displeasure upon her thin brown lips.

"His sister," Jack whispered to King with a smile as she listened to the hurried conversation in their native tongue between the two, "She's quite upset about something."

Bali pulled away from his sister's worried grasp and turned to look at Jack with a look of annoyance upon his as he rolled his eyes.

"BALI," the young girl screamed again, trying to get him to leave his old friend to accompany her back home.

"Usted puede venir con nosotros si necesita un lugar para poner bajo otra vez. Sabes que son siempre bienvenidos, así como su nuevo amigo," he informed her as he waved goodbye to her and hurried away from her after his little sister.

'_You can come with us if you ever need a place to lay low again. You know you are always welcome, as well as your new friend.'_

"Adios," she called out to him and then looked back to Schultz and chuckled, "He likes you, he said that you could come to his home anytime."

Schultz looked up to her with a coy smile as he looked into her vivid blue eyes that reflected nothing but happiness.

"You speak beautifully in Spanish," he informed her as he patted her pale hand, "And just so you know, the rumor is that it's the French that are well known in that department, but," he chuckled at his own joke to come, "us Germans know a few things."

He watched in delight as the color in her cheeks drained away from her. He smiled as he watched a deep red take over those pallid cheeks as embarrassment filled the girl which made her seem more and more human-like, than her always strong willed, blunt attitude. For once, he had gotten the upper hand on her.

...

Boyd looked down at the bloody remains from two unfortunate travelers in the deep East Texas Piney Woods. He smiled as he ripped the three pronged fork out of the dead man's jugular and looked it over fondly. Blood stained the white of the carriage as their forgotten horses grazed on the bloodied grass around the victim's bodies.

"Clever, clever girl," he whispered as he wiped the blood away from the fork and allowed it to sparkle in the bright Texas sun.

Sweat beaded down his forehead as he pocketed the fork and spit a bit of tobacco to the ground near the dead man's bloodied and beaten face. He had to give it to the Hatfield girl; she was very much like her father when it came to the will to survive.

Boyd and Jack went back a short time ago when he had met her in Mississippi. She was just a young girl at the time, no taller than a tadpole when he had first met her, but he had never forgotten that smile or those strange blue eyes. Even at a young age, she had given off a warning that told everyone to walk upon eggshells when they were near her.

"Looks like they were headin' to Nac," Tommy announced as he emerged through the brush, "Tracks are headin' off in that direction."

"You want us to all go up there and take her in," a cousin from the back asked as he pulled his rifle toward his chest.

Boyd looked down at the dead men and smiled wickedly at the thought of what a bounty hunter, a nigger, and a female gambling outlaw could do to them all. Stories had reached them recently about the tale of King Schultz and his brother being shot dead in the streets. Two people avenging the deaths of loved ones made things awfully sticky and dangerous, plus a slave that had built in rage against the white race.

"No," he dictated quickly as he moved away from the poor dead bastards and looked to his large group of family members that had picked up arms to travel with him, "Bobby!"

"Yes," Bobby answered obediently as he hurried toward his relative. Buzzards circled in the blue sky above them and crows cawed in the tall pine trees as they waited patiently to start on their giant, bloodied feast.

"I want you to go into town," Boyd directed as he pointed in the direction of where the small group had traveled, "and I want you to kidnap the girl. If I know Jackie like I think I do, she'll be at the gambler's table. Liquor her up and get her to a dark place where no one will be the wiser."

"Kidnap the-"

"I don't want her companions none the wiser now," he cleared as he glared at the burly man, "And I want her alive. You understand that?"

"I understand," Bobby answered, "But won't I need-"

"You get on outta here," Boyd demanded harshly as Tommy walked up beside him to watch Bobby hurry away from the family gang.

"Why you only sendin' him," Tommy asked as he looked to Boyd with a questioning look upon his face. His blonde hair blew into his eyes as the East Texas wind blew around them, whispering silent warnings of death to each person that it touched.

"You know how when you come up on a trap in the woods," Boyd asked as he looked over to his young cousin, "and you see that there is only the leg of a fox left in the trap?"

"I don't see what that has to do with Bobby being sent alone."

"These men," Boyd said looking down at the two dead bodies laying at their feet, "They are Jack Hatfield's leg. She's weak and easy to take right now. She's preoccupied."

"And what makes you think that," Tommy asked as he looked down at the remaining bodies, still not understanding the reference.

"She didn't kill the man with the bullet in his head," Boyd informed him as he pointed down to the man, "She is depending on that bounty hunter now, they are her caught leg. Sever the leg and make her an easier catch."

* * *

**So there's 8.**

**How about Schultz one upping her? I thought it was cute! :)**

**I love love reviews, especially long ones so review! :D**


	9. The Hangman's Noose

**Chapter 9: The Hangman's Noose**

**I just want to take this time to say that all of my readers, no matter what story you found me from and became a fan, are amazing. Sometimes you all are so amazing that I tear up and just want to hug each and everyone of you.**

* * *

A tall, well-built man with the eyes of a book learned scholar and the hands of a man that has worked hard for the first half of his life stood on the porch of the sheriff's office admiring the dusty view before him. He watched the female outlaw and her bounty hunter walk into the local bar, most likely for her to win back the money that she had just lost on the newly bought dress that flowed around her legs. He dressed as an educated man which caused him to standout within the confines of this small town. He was dressed in well-tailored black trousers with a matching black vest; his white shirt had been starched by a woman that had obviously cared about his state of dress.

He scratched at his well-cared for greying beard as a chuckle escaped him. Jacqueline Hatfield had done a lot to keep herself free of capture, but now here she was being cornered by a gang of outlaw thugs and him. Pride filled him at the thought of him finally catching the woman that had been on the run from Mississippi. He would get her back to Mississippi, there was no doubt about that.

"I'm coming for you Jacqueline," he whispered in a sultry deep voice as he turned to walk into the sheriff's office. His black boots scuffed against the wooden floor as he walked through the threshold.

He smiled as he watched the sheriff and his deputy look up at him with a questioning gaze in their bright eyes. He knew what they were thinking.

'_What's an educated man like you doin' in a town like this?'_

"Good evening Sheriff," he announced, forcing a smile at the two men. His accent shown through, it was a deep Mississippian accent that could not be missed even in the deep East Texas pine woods. His swagger was that of a confident man as he walked into the building and removed his black hat from atop his head.

"How can I help you," the sheriff asked as he glared up at the stranger in black.

He smiled and looked over to the deputy who sat in the corner of the room widdling at a small cut of wood. The current prisoners looked up at them with slight annoyance painted upon their faces as he looked at the three men inside.

"You may want to put them three men in one cell," he stated in a cocky manner as he pointed toward the three prisoners.

"And why is that," the sheriff asked in slight annoyance as he looked at the stranger who was glaring down at them.

"'Cause you got Mad Jack Hatfield in your town," he said simply and watched as fear grew within the men's eyes.

"What," the deputy yelled as he hopped up from his place in the chair, causing the wood to fall to the ground, as he hurried to grab for the rifle in the gun cabinet beside him.

"Where," the sheriff asked harshly as he stood from his desk.

"I saw her going into your little local bar across the way there," he said gruffly as he pointed out the door way.

"Her," the deputy asked in disbelief as he stopped in his tracks to look at the well-dressed stressed. He dropped his gun slightly in apprehension as he watched the man nod at the question.

"Dark hair like coal, skin that's white as snow, and eyes bluer than the dark ocean," he stated with a smile as he recited the woman's looks that he had seen countless times before.

" 'od damn it," the sheriff yelled in anger as he moved to the doorway, "That god damned Ingine was protectin' her and I walked right passed her," he looked over to his deputy and pointed at his gun, "You keep your gun and your eye on her, she's as fast as an angry rattlesnake. How in the hell did we not see her?!"

The deputy hurried out of the office first with his gun held tightly in his hands. He stopped as he looked over to the bar as hoots and hollers escaped the building; there may be a problem with so much ruckus going on inside that establishment, walking in with guns drawn was not always the best of ideas.

"What's your name," the sheriff asked of the stranger. "What you doin' here? You a bounty hunter?"

The stranger smiled as he watched the sheriff look over his well-tailored clothes.

"Name's Wahl," he informed him with a cunning smile that hid his true identity from the lawman, "and I'm just a well-meaning lawyer out of Mississippi."

...

Jack held in the large smile that wanted to escape her as she looked down at her cards. She had been dealt a rather nice hand as she moved the cards to place them in a more perfect order. She looked over to the men that surrounded the fringes of the old wooden table in the corner of the bar. She sat with her back to the wall as to give her a great view of people coming in and out of the bar and to escape any chance of having a bullet in the back by some yellow belly bounty hunter.

"Well boys," she announced happily as she watched the men place their losing cards upon the table, each holding the hope that her cards weren't as good or better than their own hand, "Looks like I win for the fifth time tonight."

She chuckled as she reached for the money in the center of the table. She listened to the men growl like wild animals in PT Barnum's traveling circus and she couldn't help but smile as she took their well-earned money from them.

"You know what they say boys," she announced as she shoved the money under her cleavage for safe keeping, "Wealth is made upon the back of others and I do appreciate you all working so hard to make me wealthier that what I was when I arrived in this town. Truly, I do thank you."

A chuckle wafted from the bar and entered Jack's ear as she pulled herself away from the card table to give the boys a good chance of winning their money back from someone that was a horrible gambler. She looked up to see a common bar wench placing her slim, well used fingers upon King's shoulder blades. She smiled as she watched him try to make casual small talk with the woman, but the whore was having none of that with each touch that she placed upon him. Jack could feel her bounty hunter's uncomfortable state from where she stood and she couldn't help but chuckle. He had never been one to shy away her own sexual musings, but with this woman, she could see him shying away as if he were a young child hiding behind his daddy's legs.

Could it be because the woman was a common whore? Or was there something more? She had never seen a man shy away from the attentions of a woman just begging for a man to take them in a bedroom upstairs.

She hadn't talked to him since that rather embarrassing conversation that he had overheard in Spanish for her own self-conscious reasonings. She had not been one to be easily embarrassed but him understanding the conversation had embarrassed her beyond belief.

Jack smiled as walked up to the bar and stood in front of Schultz. She forced herself between the two and smiled as she looked into Schultz's enchanting brown eyes. She ignored the prostitute's nasty words directed at her as she looked down at her cleavage, never allowing her eyes to move away from her capturer's captivating eyes, and pulled a small sum of greenbacks from in between her breasts and held it up for the whore to see.

"That man over there," Jack stated as she pulled her attentions from Schultz to look at the red headed prostitute, "He told me to give this to you. He wants a little cowgirl time, if ya get the meaning sweetie."

The scantily dressed woman quickly ripped the greenbacks from Jack's hand and hissed, "I didn't want the old man anyways."

"Well that's a blessing for him," she bit back as she glared at the woman with bright blue eyes, "He shall forever and always be blessedly free of diseases."

The whore rolled her eyes and walked away, wadding up Jack's well earned money. Jack smiled as she turned her attentions back to King Schultz who was smiling at her.

"Wasn't that the money that you earned back to pay for the dress," he asked with a smile as he lifted up his beer mug to take a drink.

She smiled at him and replied with a chuckle, "No that was my money. I just paid for a good time for the man that I beat."

Schultz turned from her and smiled as he watched the beaten man's face brighten up at the sight of the prostitute that Schultz had no need for sit in his lap and give him the attentions that Schultz had not wanted.

"Thank you," he stated with a smile as he looked back to the woman beside him.

"For what," she asked as she turned to the bartender and placed a coin upon the bar top and demanded, "Whiskey."

She smiled as the bartender poured her a glass of what was most likely watered down whiskey and she downed it quickly, loving the burning sensation as the liquor made its way slowly down her throat and into her stomach.

"For getting rid of that woman," he stated as he talked with his hands for emphasis, "I mean it's not in who I am to pay for a woman to give me attention."

"Of course you don't," she stated with a smile as she pushed herself from the bar and then pulling herself back to it, "You expect them to pay you once you have turned them in."

He looked at her with slight confusion and then shook his head, "Is that what you think my intentions are? That's not what I-"

"Mad Jack Hatfield," the stern voice of the sheriff announced from behind her.

Jack rolled her eyes in anger as she felt the tip of a shotgun against the back of her skull. She groaned at the use of her nickname.

"I don't particularly like that nickname," she informed him as she raised her hands in the air, "Not many a man has lived once they called me that a second time," she turned with her hands up to glare at the sheriff and the deputy, "Just fair warning in case you have got a likin' to that name."

Schultz looked at the two men wearing stars upon their chest and shook his head as he said, "This is my bounty, you can't just take what is mine."

"It's fine," Jack said with a coy smile as the deputy placed iron cuffs around her pale wrists and jerked her forward.

"She's got a gun," the sheriff announced and watched as the deputy stopped and patted her skirts down to pull the small pistol out of the hidden pocket within her skirt.

"Dr. Schultz will take my gun," Jack informed the deputy with a smile, "Don't worry. You can trust him, he's a law man. He was just on his way to return me to Mississippi to attain the bounty upon my head. Isn't that right King?"

She turned to see Schultz standing tall as the deputy handed him the pistol.

"She killed a man in Nacogdoches," the sheriff informed the dentist, "and I'm going to see to it that she hangs here in Nacogdoches for it, first thing in the mornin'. You'll get your money for it, you have my word."

"Ya hear that, King," she announced with a smile, "You have the sheriff's word…as if that means anything in this shithole town."

"Come on, Ma…Jack," the deputy demanded as he jerked her forward out of the bar and toward the jail house where she would stay the night until it was time for her to hang by the neck until dead in the tiny town of Nacogdoches.

...

Bobby McCoy pulled on the reins of his buckskin gelding as he came into the busy town of Nacogdoches. He had never seen the small dusty town so busy before in his life.

"They got Mad Jack!"

"The sheriff caught Mad Jack Hatfield!"

Screams from the local residents filled the air with glee. He felt a sense of urgency come over him at the revelation. He knew that Boyd would not be happy if something were to happen to Jack before he had exacted his pound of flesh from her.

He watched as the town deputy pulled the reins of Black Jack and led the black beast toward the sheriff's office. He knew deep down that they would use Mad Jack's own horse as the beast to carry her toward her death.

"Excuse me," he announced with a Southern drawl as he pushed himself off of his own horse, "Did you catch Mad Jack Hatfield?"

"Yes sir," the deputy answered, "Got her in the jail cell, if you lookin' to collect a reward on her I'm 'fraid it's already been taken."

"So you all really gonna hang her," Bobby asked as he looked at the slim deputy that reminded him of a tooth pick.

"First thing in the mornin'," he answered, "Bout, oh I don't know, eight o'clock."

Bobby looked at the deputy and shook his head at the pickle that he had just been placed in. Should he ride back to tell Boyd about what was unraveling or should he stay in the town to watch things unfold? Neither choice was a good one.

"It should be a good show," the deputy said with a large smile on his face as he turned to walk away from the new man in town.

Bobby shook his head as he looked at the sheriff's office where the woman that killed his family member was being held. He could easily go in there and take the pound of flesh, but Boyd would be angry that he hadn't gotten to exact the flesh for himself.

It was a nasty business, revenge and family.

...

Jack looked around the empty cell that she had been placed in and sighed as she leaned her head back upon the wall. She could hear the catcalls coming from the men in the other cell beside hers as she closed her eyes as she tried to form an escape plan.

It wasn't the first time that she had been caught, so she knew how to keep her cool, though this time she had no idea how to escape. Being with Django and Schultz had made her less observant and it had cost her dearly.

She closed her eyes as a small tune came into her head and she allowed it to escape her in a soft hum. The catcalls from the men beside her slowly faded away as they listened to the rhythmic tone of her hum.

"All my sorrow burnin' pain, you're gonna take me to the grave," she sang to herself as she hummed to herself.

"You bet your sweet ass I will," the sheriff announced harshly as he looked in on her, interrupting her soft singing.

She looked up at him and smiled softly and said, "Do you really intend on paying Dr. Schultz his much deserved reward for bringing me in to town? Ya know, I wouldn't have even come to this dirt water town if it wasn't for him."

"And here we are," the sheriff announced as he glared down at her, "You on the side of the bars that you should be on."

"Just so," she replied happily with a hint a condensation in her tone, "But to be fair, we should be sharing this cell. What sheriff in this world is wholly honest and justified?"

"Keep talkin'," the sheriff demanded, "until your little neck snaps and into the flames of Hell."

"The day I die, Sheriff," she replied as she stared deep into his eyes, "is the day I'm sprung from Hell."

He chuckled at her reply and pushed away from the woman's cell to take his place back at his seat.

"How'd you know who I was," she asked as she looked up at him. The thought hadn't really occurred to her; he had looked her dead in the eye and had not recognized her.

"A man named-"

"Little sister," a forced English voice announced in worry.

Jack looked up to see Bali standing at her cell and looking down at her with a large knowing grin upon his face.

"What in the hell are you doin' here," the sheriff asked harshly as he stood up and crossed his arms upon his chest.

"Please, Sheriff," Bali answered, "I've come to pay my respects to my sister before you condemn her to the hangman's noose."

"Fine," the sheriff announced in annoyance, "But make it quick."

Bali nodded and looked over to Jack who now stood from her place on the floor and smiled up at him.

"You have a plan," she asked in Spanish, quickly looking over to the sheriff and smiled at the look upon his face at the fact that he could not understand what they were saying.

"Yes," he admitted, "It's very simple."

"Then what is it? We kill everyone that gets in the way?"

"Yes."

She smiled at the plan and replied happily, "I do think that is the best plan that I have ever heard of. Have you told King about it?"

"No," he answered, "I thought you wanted to break away from the all."

"No," she hissed, "Tell King the plan. I will not leave without him and Django. The black is a pretty good shot, you can use him."

"I'll shoot the rope around your neck and then you and Black Jack will make a run for it," he informed her.

"We didn't fight Santie Annie for you two to be speakin' that filthy language," the sheriff informed them, growing tired of their secretive words.

"I want sharp shooters on the roof," she informed him quickly, ignoring the man's angered words.

"It's already been planned," he informed her with a smile, "My sister will be waiting behind to break your chains. You'll be safe there."

Jack smiled at her friend and nodded as she whispered her gratitude toward her old friend. He had truly been her miracle in this town.

"Tell King," she whispered as she bid him farewell, "Don't leave him in the dark."

* * *

**So what do you think about this long chapter? **

**Who is Wahl? Does he mean her harm? **

**What will Bobby do? **

**Will Schultz try to save her and ruin Bali's plan? **

**TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! I'm dying without any reviews and your thoughts on what is going on. I need input :)**

**Review.**

**(Oh by the way, the songs that she will be singing are all from Hatfields & McCoys soundtrack...which is amazing! I listen to it all the time! It is inspirational to me as a writer!)**


	10. A Brave Escape & the Indian Camp

**Chapter 10: A Brave Escape & the Indian Camp**

"Get on out there," the deputy demanded harshly as he shoved Jack forward. Dust billowed about in the wind as she was marched through the street. Residents lined the streets to watch her death, like the barbarians that they truly were.

Her hands were tied tightly with rope behind her back, disabling her from hitting someone and escaping fairly easily. She quickly looked around her, her eyes searching for the hope that she so desperately needed as she came closer and close to the hangman's noose. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she saw the man that she had so desperately searched for. Schultz stood up from his seat upon the wagon as she was marched passed him, Django was ready on his horse for the escape plan to play its course.

Her eyes quickly snapped to the above buildings as she watched two men bolt across the roof tops carrying long rifles. She chuckled as the deputy forced her to stop her to glare up at the noose that hung from the high wooden pillars.

"Just a short drop," the deputy whispered in her ear. She turned to him and looked deeply into his eyes; there was no smile of amusement to be found as she stared into his eyes.

"You won't live very long," she said emotionlessly and then turned to look at the sheriff, "Can I be on my own horse?"

The sheriff looked down at her from where he stood and shrugged his shoulders as he spoke over the preacher's prayer, "Hell," he looked around him and then to the young woman, "I don't see why not."

"Buck," he demanded as he looked to the deputy, "Get her horse."

The deputy did as he said and hurriedly brought Black Jack toward Jack. The horse pawed at the ground angrily as he looked at his owner with her hands tied behind her back.

"Now help her up there," the sheriff demanded of his deputy.

"I don't need your help," she hissed in anger as she pulled herself on top of the beast without the use of her hands, a feat that seemed almost impossible to the men standing around her.

The preacher continued on with his prayer as Jack sat atop her black mustang. She shook her head in annoyance as the preacher screamed to God in Heaven, begging for Him to forgive her sins.

"And I don't need your preachin'," she hissed as she glared at the preacher in black. She smiled wickedly as the man of the cloth looked up at her in confusion, not knowing whether he should keep on preaching or not.

"I think that's enough," the sheriff said as he looked to the dumbfounded preacher and then back to the outlaw in a dress.

"Thank ya kindly," Jack announced happily as she watched the preacher move to the side as Black Jack was pulled forward and the noose was lowered around her neck. The deputy fitted the rope around her neck, carefully avoiding her eyes.

"Mad Jack Hatfield," the sheriff announced ignoring the sour, annoyed expression that painted Jack's face at her given nickname, "You are convicted of crimes of the most barbaric, for the violent murder of twelve-"

Two shots rang out through the dusty streets and screams from the on looking residents filled air causing immense confusion.

Jack smiled as the rope fell around her, being cut in half by a bullet. She kicked Black Jack in the flanks and they quickly bolted forward just as the sheriff fell to the ground from a bullet in the head. She kept herself balanced in the saddle as gun shots flew around her as she made a daring escape. She could hear horse hooves behind her and turned her head slightly to see Django following close behind her. The wind whipped through her long dark hair as she felt herself coming closer and closer to freedom. She turned back once again to see Schultz barreling toward them in his wagon; she couldn't help but laugh with great enjoyment as she watched the tooth bounce frantically back and forth as they rushed across the land toward the Indian settlement where they would be protected for the time being.

...

Wahl watched as the scene unfurled. He watched the residents of the town rushing about to find some sense of order in the chaos that had unfurled. He had known that an escape plan had been put in place; he had never underestimated Jacqueline Hatfield, or any other Hatfields that he had dealings with, and they were a clever bunch of folks.

"God damn it," he heard the voice of Bobby McCoy announce as he hurried upon his horse to ride away from the scene to chase after the escaping group.

Wahl chuckled to himself as he calmly pulled himself up on his buckskin gelding. He kicked the horse lightly in the flank as he pulled his lassoing rope from its place around the horn and readied himself to catch a McCoy boy. His horse pounded across the ground as he quickly came up behind Bobby McCoy and his nag.

He twirled the rope above his head, leaning into the horse as they moved quickly across the flat land in the same direction that the outlaw had ran. He quickly allowed the rope to escape his grasp and fly through the air as if it were a demon snake from Hell aiming to catch and drag its next victim into Hell.

The rope latched around the large man's body and Wahl backed his horse up quickly causing Bobby to be jerked out of his saddle as his nag kept running forward as if the rider was still upon its back. Bobby fell to the ground with a loud plop. He grabbed the rope as fear coursed through his veins; he knew being roped only led to a slow and painful death. He tried to take the rope off of his body, but as he did the rope tightened and he looked up to see a man he had seen once before.

"You son of a-"

Wahl turned his horse around quickly and kicked him as hard as he could, his spurs digging into the animal's stomach in order to have the animal pick up speed. He could hear Bobby's screams from behind him as he drug the man to his death across the East Texas land. He smiled as he realized that he had done exactly what little Jack Hatfield had done, he had killed a McCoy and would warrant them to come after him for revenge.

He stopped his horse and smiled as his horse pawed at the ground just as Black Jack had done when he was annoyed. It made perfect sense that the two would do such a thing since the two horses came from the same mare.

Bobby moaned in pain as Wahl pulled himself off of his horse.

"Whoa Altivo," Wahl announced as he ground tied the buckskin colored horse and walked toward the man on the end of his rope.

His spurs sang a warning to the beat up man that he was on the prowl, readying himself to pounce and deliver the final blow.

"Bobby McCoy," Wahl announced happily, his Mississippi accent present as he looked down at the beaten and bruised man.

Bobby groaned as he looked up to the man that he immediately recognized and said, "Wahl-"

"Looks like you took a nasty fall," Wahl announced as he looked at the broken bones the protruded outside of his white skin and tattered clothes.

Wahl placed his hand around the butt of his gun, holding onto the ivory tightly as he pulled it from its holster. He opened the chamber and loaded it with new bullets and whistled as he did, only to put the beaten man on edge.

"Don't do this," Bobby demanded as he listened to the twirling of the chamber and the click of it being put back in place.

"Sorry Bobby," Wahl announced, "But I can't have you goin' after what's mine. And to be honest," he chuckled as he looked down on the man and pointed the pistol at his forehead, "You're a waste of flesh, but not a waste of a bullet. I'm gonna use you to send a message to your family."

Bobby moaned in pain for the last time just before a loud bang ripped through his reality and into the bone of his skull than finally piercing through his brain quickly ending the pain that he felt from the horrible dragging that Wahl had previously put him through.

Wahl smiled as he watched Bobby's nag walking lazily back toward his owner. He chuckled as he placed his pistol back into its home in his holster and walked toward the skinny animal.

"I've got a job for you," he announced childishly as he pulled the nag by the reins toward the dead body of Bobby. He looked down at the body of Bobby and snickered as he pulled the dead man to his feet.

"Come on Bobby," he demanded, "Justice calls."

Wahl placed the body atop the horse and tied him down so as to not fall from the saddle and to the ground where the McCoy clan could not find him.

"Now," Wahl stated as he finished tying the body down and pulled a paper from his vest pocket and placed it safely on the saddle, "Here's my message that you are going to deliver."

Wahl surveyed his work with a proud smile and slapped the animal on the rump hard. He watched as the animal slightly kicked as it galloped away from the scene carrying Bobby McCoy back to his murderous family.

"I'm always there for ya Jack," he announced happily as he pulled himself onto his horse and clicked his tongue to signal for the horse to move forward, "Even if ya don't like it."

...

King Schultz smiled as he looked around him to see the wondrous workings of the Indian culture. They had made their own little life seemingly in the middle of nowhere. He looked around for someone in particular. Django sat shooing the horses beside Bali, the man that had planned the brave escape. He hurried toward the two and smiled as he looked at the brave Cherokee.

"Excuse me," he said in Spanish as he looked down at the man, "Have you seen Jack?"

Bali smiled brightly up at the German bounty hunter and then pointed to his left and replied in Spanish, "Jack likes the creek. Try there, but be careful, Mad Dog is there, he bites."

"Gracias," Schultz said with a large, thankful smile and ignored Django's knowing glance as he hurried in the direction of where Jack had disappeared to.

Schultz careful made his way down the hill to the creek. He could see the setting sun reflect upon the water which created a beautiful scene that even the greatest of artist could not duplicate. Bright reds, yellows, and oranges painted the water as he moved toward the creek bed. Leaves crumpled under his feet as he walked toward it.

A horrible growl came from beside him; the growl was almost dog like. He looked to his right to see a young boy with a rope around his neck tied up like an unwanted dog. He felt a sense of horror come over him at the atrocity that he was staring at. Raw meat had been thrown upon the ground beside a tipped over bucket that must have held the boy's drinking water.

Schultz quickly made his way to the growling wild boy who was glaring at him with glassy eyes. The boy tugged at the rope around his neck as he tried to escape his bounds.

"I wouldn't step any closer," the soft voice of Jack announced from behind him.

Schultz stopped in his place and turned to see Jack looking at him from beside the water. He then turned to the boy and shook his head.

"What is this," he asked, "This isn't humane."

"He's sick," Jack informed him as she kept her gaze upon the rippling water in front of her, "His name is Mad Dog."

"What's wrong with him," Schultz asked as he watched saliva and foam fall from the young boy's mouth.

"He was bitten by a coyote on a hunting trip," she informed him, "He's rabid. There's nothing that can be done for him."

"So they tie him up," he asked in disbelief as he looked at the poor boy.

Jack looked away from the creek and looked to Schultz who was now walking toward her, moving away from the rabid child.

"They don't have the heart to put a bullet in his head," she informed him coldly. She could see the caring for the boy in his eyes and she shook her head as she added, "It's a sad fact of life out here. It's just the way that it is."

Schultz looked down at his feet in sympathy for the young boy.

"You care, don't you," he heard her ask.

He turned to look at her and looked into her eyes that beamed of understanding. He nodded at her words and then looked at the beautiful scene in front of them.

"It's good that you care," Jack whispered as she looked at him, taking in each small movement of his face, "You care about Django, and the boy, and hell bound outlaws…people that desperately need someone to care for them."

She shook her head at her words and smiled at him as she asked, "You see it as a flaw though, don't you King?"

Schultz shrugged his shoulders as he reached down to grab a perfectly shaped pebble and skipped it across the rippling creek. He turned to her and gave her a weak smile.

"What's the point in caring when you can't change anything," he asked, his accent strong in his words as he looked into her deep eyes, feeling as if he could stare at those eyes forever.

"Things eventually do change," she informed him as she picked up her own pebble and skipped it across the lake, her stone going further than his, "because of people that do care. People like you," she paused then added, "I could tell when I first saw you and Django ride into town."

He smiled at her words and said fondly, "You knew all that by one glance?"

"Well, it's not an everyday occurrence that you see a freed slave," she informed him with a shrug of her shoulders as she gazed into his brown eyes.

"I admire you Jacqueline," he stated softly, using her full name as he looked into her dark blue eyes. He smiled as he watched an unsure smile come across her face. She grabbed another rock and skipped it across the water once again.

"And why is that," she asked as she looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"You are the spirit of this age," he informed her in a matter of fact tone, "It's rare that you see something so based in reality. You are the beauty and the pain of this world."

She shook her head and chuckled at his philosophical words as she said, "I'm not the spirit of any age. All I am is an outlaw."

"That's not all you are," he informed her, his accent once again thick, "If you were just a common outlaw, you would have shot Django and I long ago and went about your way."

She lifted her brow as a smile came across her face. She turned away from him and looked into the distance and took a deep breath as she allowed the soft wind to blow softly through her thick hair.

"Sit with me," she whispered as she sat down on the leafy ground. She smiled as her fingers fiddled with the ends of her skirt as she looked over the water.

"Beautiful isn't it," she asked as she looked to the tree line where the sun slowly hid behind causing a distortion of the light upon the water, "I don't think I can ever see myself leaving the southland. It's just too beautiful. You know," she said as Schultz sat down beside her, "I feel sorry for any person that has never seen the true beauty of the South," she watched as he quickly glanced to the skyline and then back to her, "Look at me, you must be so homesick. You probably have seen far more beautiful things that just a sunset," a blush quickly found itself upon her cheeks.

Schultz smiled at her and replied, "And that's where you are mistaken Jack, I think this tops the list of beautiful sights."

She felt a tug at her heart at his words as she forced herself to look away from him and back to the sunset.

"I think this," Schultz announced, breaking the sudden silence between the two as he pulled her pistol from his vest, "belongs to you."

She looked at him in confusion as he placed the gun into her hands.

"You trust me," she asked as she looked into his deep brown eyes in slight disbelief.

"You haven't killed me yet," Schultz said with a chuckle and clapped his hand together in order to hopefully alleviate the tension that was forming between the two as they sat side by side on the creek bank taking in the beautiful sunset.

"I think," Jack whispered as she looked over to the water, halting before continuing on with her train of thought, "I think that you and Django should leave," she closed her eyes as she felt his concerned eyes upon her flesh, "It was selfish of me to ask you to protect me, it's my own mess."

Schultz snorted at her words and replied softly, "Jack if you're worried about-"

"I've found myself caring about you," she stopped, "and Django as well, if something were to happen to you, I'd never forgive myself," she shook her head and wiped a stray strand away that had fallen into her eyes, "I will still keep to my word and give you the reward money, it's the least I can do, but I want you to leave."

Schultz quickly grabbed her hand and held it tightly in his own as he looked deeply into her worried blue eyes. He felt a tug inside of him as he took in her features. She had been downright dangerous, but he had seen a softer side to her as she had in him with the poor rabid boy just up the hill.

"I gave my word that I'd protect you," he whispered as he watched her close her eyes and a smile tug at her lips, "I'm not going anywhere…but I'm still taking you back to Mississippi, but I will see if I can pay off the-"

"What makes you care so much," she asked as she looked up at him, interrupting him in an effort to not hear the hopeless suggestion that he was about to make, "What made you become a bounty hunter? Did you love someone?"

She moved ever so closer to him as if they were courting lovers. The smell of fresh linen and the intoxicating smell of tobacco ripped through her senses as she awaited the answer.

"There is a reason," he informed her in a heavily accented whisper, "A reason very similar to your revenge tale," he looked up to see Jack looking at him with concern and interest painted upon her features, he could smell her intoxicating perfume as the wind blew around her, "My brother was murdered in cold blood, two bullets in the chest. He was just a peaceful guy and some outlaw came into town and shot the bar up," he shrugged his shoulders casually, "It was a case of wrong place, wrong time."

"So you hunted the man down," she asked, a smile coming across her face, "Did you kill him?"

"I don't miss when I point my gun," he informed as he returned her large smile with his own large coy smile. He chuckled playfully.

She batted her lashes as she looked to him with a smile as she leaned closer to him, closing her eyes as she took in his distinct aroma. Her heart pounded as she made the first move.

Schultz felt his heart lurch as he watched the woman moving close to him with her eyes closed. She was a rather trusting person, allowing herself to be alone with him in the middle of nowhere. He tightened his grip on her hand that he had never allowed himself to release and smiled as the soft lilac of her perfume formed around him, creating a wonderful aromatic barrier around him to shield his senses from the smell of mud around them. He could feel her breath upon his skin as her lips lingered just above his teasingly. He was about to close the space when a familiar voice shattered their perfect moment.

"Aye Jack," Django announced from above the hill near the rabid child.

Schultz watched as Jack opened her eyes, annoyance clearly on her face as she quickly pulled away from him and ripped her hands out of his.

"What is it Django," she asked as she looked up to the freed slave.

"Bali sent for you," Django informed her as he pointed toward the camp site, "I think there's a problem with his sister or somethin'."

"Right," she said as she shot a sad look to Schultz, "Bali always had the most imperfect timing. Excuse me, King."

Schultz watched as Jack hurried from her place beside him. She quickly wiped the leaves off of her rump from where they sat. He watched as she walked with her head down as she made her way up the hill. He could see Django looking at Jack with a knowing smile on his face as he made his way down to them.

Django wore a large grin as he looked at the man that had purchased him and allowed him his freedom. He watched as Schultz pulled himself from the ground and stood tall as he wiped leaves off of his grey outfit.

"What," Schultz asked as he looked at his smiling friend.

"Nothin'," Django answered, his smile never faltering, "I just wasn't 'spectin' what I just saw."

Schultz felt a bright blush come over him as he held his hands in the air in a stopping motion, "You didn't see anything, Django. Jack and I were just talking."

"Right," Django said with a snort, "Talking, that's somethin' ya tell the master when he catches ya talkin' to his beautiful daughter when they were doin' what you and Jack almost did."

Schultz shrugged his shoulders and tried to explain, "Well I, you know, I didn't…she-"

"Hey," Django announced with a shrug, "she perty, ain't nothin' wrong with kissin' on a pretty woman, as long as she don't kill ya ass in the process."

Schultz laughed heartily at Django's response as they climbed up the hill together.

"So those Brittle brothers," Django started.

"Ah yes," he answered, "We will be leaving tomorrow morning. So I suggest for you to get a restful night's sleep. It will be a long ride."

...

Boyd and his rowdy family barreled across the land as they made their way toward Nacogdoches. Bobby hadn't given word as to what was going on in the town with Mad Jack Hatfield and they had become increasingly worried and enraged with each passing hour that he had not returned to them.

"Whoa," Boyd hissed to his horse as he watched Bobby's horse gallop toward them, carrying something rather large upon his back.

"Jesus fuck," a family member from behind him announced harshly as they watched the horse buck and the body of Bobby McCoy being thrown from the animal's back.

Boyd hurriedly jumped off of his horse and rushed toward the mangled body of his large cousin. He could smell the rank stench of blood upon Bobby's filthy clothes as he turned the body over to face him.

"Oh god damn," Boyd hissed as he looked at the bullet hole in the man's head. He felt rage fill his body as he looked down at yet another dead family member.

"There's a not," Tommy announced as he walked up behind Boyd. He quickly unpinned the note from Bobby's body and opened it. His eyes widened at the words that looked back at him in pitch black ink.

"It just says 'X Hatfield'," Tommy read aloud as he looked down at the body.

"That damned Hatfield bitch has done killed one too many of our family," Boyd hissed in anger as he pulled himself away from his deceased cousin.

"She dragged him by the looks of it," Tommy said as he examined the body, "Then put a god damned bullet in his head."

"Let this be known," Boyd screamed as he pulled himself on top of his horse and glared at each one of his relatives, "Bobby's death will not be in vain! We won't stop 'til we kill that Hatfield girl and every other Hatfield that gets in our way!"

* * *

**So here's a very long chapter for you all filled with yummy gummy sweetness that is Schutlz and Jack. Did you enjoy it? **

**So who is Wahl? Any guesses? He kind of protected her from Bobby didn't he? Does he had good intentions or bad intentions for what he did?**

**Boyd is pretty pissed about this whole situation huh? Maybe he just needs to calm his tits. What do you think?**

**Reviews make me a very happy goblin. **

**(oh I have a Tumblr, the link is on my page, feel free to follow me!)**

**Review! :)**


	11. Long Road to Hell

**Chapter 11: Long Road to Hell**

**FYI: I don't like the beginning of this chapter. **

* * *

A slight jolt radiated through Jack's sleeping form as she lay still upon the soft ground near the smoking embers of what remained of the fire from the previous night. Her eyes bolted open and she jumped from surprise as a well-kept beard and soft brown eyes looked down at her. She felt his hand upon her shoulder through her blouse, warm from staying buried inside of his pockets.

"Shh," Schultz whispered as he looked down at the sleepy woman who was pulling herself into a seated position, "Some are still asleep."

Jack looked around the camp to see Django settling Fritz into his straps as other members of Bali's family moved to and fro, completing their morning chores. Fog billowed through the pine trees that surrounded them and over the small creek in an almost foreboding manner as the incoming winter wind chilled her bones.

"We have to get going," Schultz whispered to her as he helped her up from the ground, his large warm hands caressing her own dainty frigidly cold hands.

She nodded in understanding as she ran a hand through her messy hair. Her eyes closed slightly as she adjusted to her waking state. She felt a comfort upon her as Schultz looked over her with a genuine smile upon his face. She yawned and moved away from him to lend a helping hand in the morning routines.

Jack jerked her heavy saddle and blanket from the ground and walked toward Black Jack with a soft smile on her face at seeing her oldest pal. She whistled to him and watched with pride as he nodded his head at her and snorted his pleasure of seeing her.

"You ready boy," she whispered as she placed the blanket carefully onto his back made of rolling fat and then threw the saddle upon his back.

Her hands moved quickly with skill as she fastened the girt and other straps upon the well-behaved painted horse.

"Jack," the voice of Bali announced with a hint of sadness in his voice.

She turned to face her old time friend and looked at his haggard, sorrowful face. She could see each line of age on his sharp features as he looked at her with such sad eyes.

"He died," she asked in Spanish.

"Early in the morning," Bali informed her.

"And his family?"

Schultz made his way toward her as he overheard the conversation between the gracious Bali and her. He watched as Bali moved away from Jack and hurried toward a gathering group of the tribe's men.

"What's going on," Schultz asked, his accent thick as he looked over to the group and then to Jack to see her eyes averted to the ground.

"The boy," Jack replied softly as she turned to him with sad eyes, "He died during the night."

She looked away from his caring eyes and then over to the group of men as they untied the bounds from the limp boy.

"What are they going to do with him," Schultz asked as he watched her make a cross over her body just as the men passed the both of them carrying the poor devil out of the direct gaze of the tribe.

"They're taking him far away from here," she whispered as Bali hurried back toward them, wiping his hands upon his pants leg as he stopped in front of them, "to dispose of the body properly. They will treat him like an animal alive, but then give him a proper human burial. Funny little traditions aren't they? They haven't the heart to kill him so they let him suffer cruelty that even an animal shouldn't feel."

She looked at Bali's soft smile, completely ignorant of the critiques that she was giving of his small tribe's actions on dealing with the rabid boy. She looked to Schultz who was watching the other men carry the boy far into the woods where he would be disposed of.

"What is it Bali," she asked in Spanish.

"Take this," Bali demanded in Spanish as he grabbed her pale wrists and placed a cloth napkin filled with warm bread sitting comfortably inside, "For the road."

"Gracias," she announced happily as she turned away from her old friend to place the napkin into her leather saddle bag. She turned quickly and gave him a quick hug as she had performed back in Nacogdoches before her uncalled for capture and daring escape.

"Thank you for having us," she added as she pulled away from him and looked over to Schultz who was running his hand over the well-toned muscle upon Black Jack's neck.

"De nada," Bali announced with a chuckle as a young man hurried up to him and looked up at Jack with adoration dancing in his eyes as he spoke in Bali's native tongue. The boy was tall and sleek with soft stubble that had just started to grow upon his face, a young man that had just entered the first stages of manhood.

"What's he saying," Jack asked as she gave the young man a soft smile and chuckled as the teenager blushed at her gifted smile.

Bali looked up at her and then to Schultz as he replied, "He's going to lead you out of here safely. There was a cat spotted ahead. Wouldn't want any of you attacked."

"Tell him thank you," Jack informed him as she pulled herself atop Black Jack and looked down at the men in front of her. Django quickly mounted his own nag and hurriedly made his way towards her and Schultz who was now making his way to his newly stocked dental wagon and Fritz.

"And thank you for your hospitality, friend," Jack announced in Spanish happily as she turned to Django who was looking at the two of them with a sense of wonderment in his eyes as he listened to them speak in a foreign tongue.

"Come Django," Jack announced as she lightly kicked Black Jack in the flack and lightly spanked the animal's rump with the ends of the reigns to move him forward.

"Adios," Bali announced with a wave as he watched the outlaw and her captors moving forward, out of the Indian camp. He turned and smiled at the young man that was to escort them away and added with a chuckle, "Make sure that she doesn't kill you."

...

Jack glared at Schultz as they moved across the land, coming closer and closer to the state line. In a few weeks, he would march her back into Mississippi to her own death. It wasn't the state government that she was afraid of, she could escape them quickly; it was something altogether different that she feared in the great state of Mississippi. Bitterness filled her as she looked over to the man that she had started to feel butterflies around, something that she knew she would have to dispose of quickly.

"So how many men have you killed," she asked, effectively breaking the silence that had fueled the thick air since their young escort had left without so much as a whip mark upon his back or a bullet in the temple.

Schultz jerked from his thoughts and looked over to the woman that had asked him that personal question. It was the same question that she had been asked only a few nights ago, but there were differences between the two. She was an outlaw and he was a lawman. He killed people for the right reasons and she killed them for the wrong reasons. He needed to remind himself of that fact, he needed to start seeing her as an outlaw and get the impure thoughts of her out of his mind.

She was an outlaw. She wasn't the type to carry home to a mother. She wasn't the kind of woman that one could fall asleep next to and not worry about having your throat slashed, a bullet to the temple, or a fork in the jugular.

Those thoughts were quickly burned away from his mind as his heart rationalized that she had not done any of those horrible things to him, or to Django. Yes, it was true that she had raised her gun at them, but such is life on the run. Mad Jack Hatfield depended on her guns, her cunning, and Black Jack, but now she was depending on them for some reason he had yet to deduce.

"King," her voice rang out again.

He turned to see her smiling at him softly; her smile reminded him of that innocent, sweet moment that they had shared from before when he had let his rational side slip momentarily.

"Uhm," he announced, loosing himself once again as he looked at her curious eyes, "What did you ask? My mind was in Mississippi."

He watched as her smile quickly faded at the state's name and looked away from him. He watched as she shook her head and forced another smile upon her face, a fake smile in hopes of hiding just how afraid she was of returning to Mississippi.

"I asked how many men have you killed," she asked in an almost bitter tone, "You both know how many I've killed. I think it's only right that I should know. And I am quite curious. To be honest King, you don't look like the type of man that should be riding off into the sunset with dust flying on his well-tailored suits looking for a man to kill."

He smiled at her words. They had been true, once upon a time. He had never once thought of bounty hunting as a career choice before his brother died.

"I don't precisely remember how many men that I have turned in," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Turned in," she asked in shock as her dark blue eyes glared at him and added with bitter anger, "Why don't you just call it what it is? You kill people for money, Dr. Schultz."

He could feel the quiet anger that radiated in her eyes as she looked upon him. Her attitude seemed to change as soon as they had left the Indian camp and moved closer and closer to the state lines.

"It's not like-"

"Not like what I do," she finished for him as Django came riding along to them after hearing her rising voice.

"I didn't mean it like-"

"Let me remind you of something," she hissed as she glared at him, "You are no better than me. If you don't kill outlaws," she paused as hot tears threatened to overtake her eyes, "Outlaws like me, then you don't eat. If I don't kill men that try to harm me or have harmed the people that I love, then I don't live. That's all there is to it. You are not better than me just because the United States of Fools pays you to kill. Just remember, it's a long road down to Hell."

He watched in slight shock at her bitter words as she kicked Black Jack hard with her spurs and moved away from him and Django. He watched as her long hair bounced in the air as she moved away from them, but not leaving them.

He found himself lost in the thought oh why she would chose to stay with them. She was safe back at the Indian camp with Bali. She could quite possibly be the quickest hand in the South, she could go against a whole army regiment if she desired from a safe place upon a hill.

"What's wrong with her," Django asked as he looked over to Schultz who was gazing at Jack's back, not knowing that tears were falling down her cheeks at her harsh words that she had just yelled at him.

"She doesn't want to go Mississippi," he answered honestly.

"Oh," Django replied as he looked away from the man that had freed him to the woman that had killed the harassing drunkard in Nacogdoches.

"She's just scared," Schultz admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, "She doesn't like to show it, but that's all it is. Don't take her harsh words to heart, Django."

"So you really gonna let 'em hang 'er," Django asked as he turned back to Schultz to await his answer. He watched as Schultz smiled and chuckled as he placed his index finger against his lips.

"No," he whispered, "But she doesn't know that."

...

The thundering of horse hooves pounded upon the hard ground rattled through the darkening woods. Birds flew from their sleeping stance upon their perches as hoots and hollers rampaged through the piney wood forest like banshees in the night.

Boyd McCoy and his gang made out of his young family members rushed through the pine woods of East Texas. Their torches lit their way through the forest as they prepared for their raid on the Indian camp where Mad Jack Hatfield was being sheltered.

Young Indian men hurried out of their small houses with guns in hand as the gang trampled through their camp. McCoy men shot at every man that lifted their rifle before they even knew that they had had a gun pointed at their temples.

The crying of babies, wives, and young children could be heard throughout the black darkness of night from the slaughter that had come through the forest like demons emerging from Hell ushering in the Apocalypse.

Boyd glared as he glared at the large fires the burned from the roofs of the houses around him. Gun fire blew back and forth and blood shot from arteries in every direction.

"WHERE IS MAD JACK HATFIELD," he screamed over the bloodcurdling screams of the dying Indians, regardless of sex or age.

"I WANT MAD JACK HATFIELD," Boyd screamed in a bloody rage as he kicked his horse forward once again in search of the woman that had killed his family members in the most heinous of ways.

"I got one," a large beer bellied cousin, Jebediah, announced loudly as he held a tall, sharp nosed Indian man in his arms at gun point as he jerked the man out of the burning house, "Tommy's got another."

Boyd watched as Tommy pulled out a young girl, his hands wrapped tightly around her long black locks as he pulled her out of the burning house. Tears fell from the girl's eyes as she watched the older man being held at gunpoint.

"Bali," the girl cried as she listened to the cocking of the gun as Boyd glared down at her brother.

"You hear all that," Boyd asked as he motioned to the screams that were soon coming to an abrupt end as the last few of the women and children were murdered in cold blood, "This is all 'cause of that outlaw you is harborin'. Now, I'll let you and the girl live if you let us have her?"

Bali did not answer the man.

"I don't think he speaks English," Tommy answered as he held on tightly to the young girl in front of him. Fear and self-hatred bubbled inside of him as he listened to the little girl's painful whimpers.

"JACK HATFIELD," Boyd screamed and drew his pistol.

Bali closed his eyes, awaiting the death that had befallen the others in his tribe. His little sister's piercing sobs filled the stiff, blood filled night as Boyd held his pistol in front of him in anger.

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

Bali did not answer.

"Alright then, I was going to spare the girl, but I'll just kill her too," Boyd announced with harsh eyes and pointed his gun toward the girl. He closed one eye and focused his aim at the girl's throat, a harsh death, the same death that his brother had received from Jack. His finger caressed the trigger as he ignored Tommy's protests of killing the young girl.

"No," Bali screamed as he watched Boyd's finger squeeze the trigger lightly, "MISSISSIPPI!"

Boyd dropped the gun from its target and turned to look down on the crying man that was being held against his will in the arms of his beer bellied, illiterate cousin.

"When," he hissed in anger, "How far have they gotten?"

Bali looked over to his crying sister, she was shaking in fear. Her clothes were soaked from urine as she looked up at him with sad eyes.

"WHEN?!"

Boyd pointed the gun back at the young girl.

"Sunrise," Bali cried as a sob escaped him. He had lost everything and had betrayed his old friend. He had never thought that she was being chased by someone that had been so bloodthirsty.

"Boyd," Tommy announced, "You know that they could be in the next state now! Who knows where they are hidin' now!"

Boyd bit at his tongue as he glared down at Bali in anger. Rage bubbled inside of him at the thought of Jack already slipping so far out of his clutches. He raised his gun and pointed at Bali and shook his head.

"Boyd," Tommy announced, trying to be the voice of reason, "Now he told you what you needed, you don't have to do-"

A shot rang out beside Tommy, causing a horrible ringing to enter his ears. The girl in his hands went limp in his grasp and fell to the hard ground. A large bloody lake quickly mixed with the browning grass below small dead body. The screams from the large Indian man were deafened by the ring as he watched Boyd raise his gun and shoot the man in the throat, leaving the man to suffer just as his brother had suffered.

Tommy felt a hard pang in his heart as he looked down at the dead girl that he had held in his arms. A perfectly rounded bullet hole sat perfectly upon her chubby cheeks. Sickness filled him as blood slowly fell from her dark skin and stained her clothes and hair.

"Saddle up," Boyd screamed as he kicked his horse away from the scene of his crime, "We goin' to ride through the night."

"But the horses won't survive," a voice somewhere in the distance announced.

"Then we'll get new horses," Boyd screamed as he looked at Tommy who was still staring down at the dead girl with a look of sadness and regret upon his face. He kicked his horse toward him and shook his head.

"Get on your god damned horse," Boyd hissed to Tommy dangerously, "Ain't no time for mournin' no savages. We've got to catch up to that lowdown murderin' cunt."

Tommy looked up at him as the ringing in his ears desipitated. He felt anger bubble inside of him as he looked up to the murderous Boyd McCoy.

"This was wrong," Tommy informed him harshly.

"The way to Hell is a long road down," Boyd informed him bitterly, "Now if you don't wanna be takin' this road with us," he shook his head in anger, "to avenge what happened to Jack, then you can just stay behind. See how long you make it without your family to support you, Tommy McCoy. You won't be nothin', Now what you gonna do? Get on that god damned horse or stay looking at that dead squaw?"

Tommy looked away from his cousin and shook his head.

"What's your choice," Boyd hissed in anger.

"I'm a McCoy," Tommy hissed back as he walked away from his cousin and climbed atop his horse, "But I am not okay with killin' innocent women and children."

"Noted," Boyd replied bitterly as he watched Tommy kick his horse forward and into the darkness to chase after a murderous gambler.

* * *

**Such a sad chapter huh? **

**So will Jack and King make up? **

**And Tommy? Poor Tommy :(**

**What will happen when Jack finds out about Bali? **

**Also, I'm planning the next chapter to be set with Big Daddy. So kind of a time jump next chapter :)**


	12. The Proposition

**Chapter 12: The Proposition**

Very little was said between Jack and King as they made their long trek through the Tennessee backwoods. She wasn't recognized as they had passed through countless small towns, mostly because the townspeople were too busy looking at Django riding valiantly upon his old stolen nag. They weren't focused on delivering her to Mississippi yet, they were focused on those damned Biddle Brothers.

"So where are the infamous Biddle Brothers," Jack asked, breaking the silence, as she rode up beside Schultz as they entered the mountain range where they would take refuge for the night.

"She speaks," he announced happily as he twirled his glorious mustache. He smiled as he watched the woman subtly roll her eyes at his teasing words. He watched as she looked slightly away from him to take in the sun setting slowly over the mountain range, casting a long shadow across the land as they moved up the rocky hill.

"I'm," she stopped as she turned to look back to him, his warn brown eyes melting her as she looked into his eyes, "I'm sorry," she shook her head in embarrassment, "for how I acted…I just," she closed her eyes, "You don't have the slightest idea what lays in wait for me in Mississippi. I'm afraid, and I've never been afraid before."

"I understand," he announced as he watched her once hardened features soften at his soft words.

"I don't know why I'm afraid," she confided in a whisper as she looked up to Django who rode further ahead of them, giving them time to reconcile the storm that had brewed between them like a monster hurricane coming in from the sea for the last few weeks.

"I forgive you," Schultz said as he pulled back on the reigns, stopping Fritz in his tracks. He looked around him at the tall mountainous cliffs that surrounded them and smiled at her.

"This looks like a good place to rest for the night," he informed her with a smile as he watched her push out of her saddle. He watched as she forced her tired body forward, pulling Black Jack behind her.

"Ah Jack," Schultz found himself saying as he watched her slowly looking back at him, "I'm sorry too."

"For what," she asked in slight confusion as she looked at the man in grey.

He shrugged his shoulders and replied gently in his thick accent, "For not being more understanding of your plight. You saved Django from that drunkard," he smiled at her and sighed loudly, "I have a proposition for you."

Jack lifted a brow as she ground tied her horse and sauntered to him with a large smile upon her face. She closed the space between them, just like back at Bali's camp, as she looked almost longingly into his eyes.

"And what sort of proposition do you have in mind," she asked with a coy smile as she allowed her eyes to unapologetically look him over with longing in her eyes.

"You help me catch the Biddle Brothers," he said as his one eyes trailed over her jawline, his heart beat just as it did when she was near him at the Indian camp, "And I let you go."

She blinked at her eyes at the generous proposition. She was taken aback by his words, she felt the want to kiss him bubble inside of her, but she resisted as she allowed a large, happy smile to devour her features.

"You'll just let me go," she asked with a smile. His proposition was almost too good to be true. "All I have to do is help you?"

"Yeah that's what I said," Schultz replied.

"No catch?"

He smiled at her words and patted her pale hands and replied, "No catch, though I do hope you would stick around. Just for my benefit."

"And how do I benefit you, King?"

"Well," he said softly, his eyes meeting her dark oceanic blues as he shrugged his shoulders, "I know that you are alive if you are with us," he watched as her face brightened at his truthful words, "And besides, like Django, I feel responsible for you. I mean, I did rip you from your bar in Texas."

"What about the money," she asked as she looked over to the leather saddle bag upon her saddle and then back to Schultz.

He waved his hands in the air and replied nonchalantly, "It's just money."

She gave him a look of suspicion and shook her head, "I wouldn't feel right-"

"Your safety matters to me Jack," he whispered softly as he placed his warm hands upon her shoulders protectively, "I gave you my word that I'd protect you, and that's what I'm going to do."

Jack's breath caught in her throat as she watched him close the space between them and place a quick, warm kiss upon her forehead. She closed her eyes and let a sigh escape her at the touch of his lips against her dampening skin. She felt herself becoming lost in the aromatic smells that escaped his clothes as his wonderfully combed beard tickled her as he moved away from her.

"There, a kiss to show you my good intentions," he announced happily as he pulled away from her and continued on with taking care of his horse and setting up camp with Django before the sun went down. He left her alone to take in the now empty space that he had once stood in and the hot blush that crossed her cheeks from the feel of his soft lips upon her skin. She desperately wanted those lips to touch more of her as soon as they made contact with her.

"I've got to get a handle on this situation," she whispered as she hurried away from the dental carriage and toward Black Jack to groom him. Grooming the animal always helped in taking her mind off of the challenges in her life, and her strange, alarming feelings for the German bounty hunter were the most recent challenges in her life.

...

Django ate the beans that King had bought from the town they had passed through recently as the fire burned in front of him, sending smoke all around the small camp that they had set up. He turned to see Schultz undressing in the far corner, taking great care of his grey suit. The man's red long johns could have been seen from miles if it wouldn't have been for the large cliffs that hid them from prying eyes or hiding snipers. Jack's newly cleaned clothes lay over the makeshift clothes line to dry in the hard air that billowed through the mountains.

He heard a slight cursing from the dental carriage and smiled as he spied the bare white back of Jack as she changed into a clean simple white blouse. He looked at her back; it was free of scars from the overseer's whips, her pale white body did not hold any brands from any man. Broomhilda held several scars upon her dark hide from years of working in servitude.

"So what are you going to do with your newfound freedom," Schultz asked from afar, "Once this mess with the Biddle Brothers is over with?"

Jack emerged from her place beside the carriage and sauntered over toward the fire beside Django. Her pistol hung loosely around her hips as her new, dark brown skirt billowed in the dusty wind that blew around them. She smiled at him as she sat down beside him and awaited his answer, seemingly interested in his future plans. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked over to Schultz who was pulling his newly cleaned slacks over his red long johns and then back to him.

"Find my wife," Django answered as he looked over to Schultz and then to Jack, "Buy her freedom."

"Married," Jack asked with a happy chuckle as she pulled a flask out of her skirt pockets.

"Django," Schultz announced happily as he pulled his suspenders over his freshly cleaned white shirt, "I had no idea you were a married man. Do most slaves believe in marriage?"

Jack shook her head as she looked over to Schultz dressing. She took a large swig of whiskey and shook her head sadly, allowing Django one look of sympathy.

"Me and my wife do," he answered as he stuffed a spoonful of beans into his mouth, "Old man Karuka didn't, that's why we run off."

"Slave marriages aren't seen as legal in the eyes of the law unfortunately," she informed the German that she kept her eyes glued on, "It's a real shame. Jumping the broom is always great fun to watch."

"You've seen a slave marriage," Schultz asked as he walked over to the two group members as they say around the fire.

She shrugged her shoulders and replied with a reminiscing smile, "I grew up around slaves. I got my first whippin' from Daddy for tryin' to teach this little slave girl to read and write."

Schultz looked over at her fondly as she talked about her past. He wanted as much information as she was willing to give him so he could piece together the enigma that was Jack Hatfield.

"Django," Jack announced as she poured her a bowl of beans and grabbed the newly polished three pronged fork, "Where did your master sell you and your wife?"

"Greenville," Django answered obediently as he watched a slight sparkle in her eyes as she looked him over. A smile grew upon her face at the name of the town.

"In Greenville," Schultz offered as he pulled the boiling coffee off of the fire and poured them each a hot cup, "They should have some kind of record of sale."

"That's right," Jack announced happily as she held the warm cup closely to her, taking in the warmth that it offered her as the sun started to sink lower and lower of the mountain range and the wind become more bitingly cold, "Auctions are notorious for keeping pristine records."

"Do you know when she was sold," Schultz asked as he sat on the other side of Django, "Where she was from and you know her name," he poured himself a cup of coffee and placed the cup against his lips, "What is her name?"

"Broomhilda."

Jack watched as Schultz pulled away from his warm cup of coffee and looked at Django with a strange sparkle in his eyes.

"What," Schultz asked once again as he looked at Django with curious eyes.

"Broom," Django said slowly in hopes that Schultz would understand, "Hilda."

"Broomhilda," he asked once again, this time with more urgency.

"Uh hmm," Django answered as he sipped on the hot coffee.

"Were her owners German," Schultz asked quickly.

A smile came across Jack's face as she looked at his curious face and his curious eyes.

"Yeah," Django answered, "How you know? She wasn't born on the Karukan plantation. She was raised by a German mistress. She speak a lil German too."

"Your wife," he asked as he leaned over as curiosity and happiness bubbled inside of him. Jack couldn't help the smile that grew across her face as she looked at the German bounty hunter which she quickly hid behind the cup she drank from.

"When she was little her mistress taught her so she'd have someone to speak German with," Django informed him with a proud smile as he saw the interest on Schultz's face.

"Wait, wait, wait," Schultz said, causing an amused chuckle to escape Jack, "Let me get this straight. Your wife is a German speaking slave named Broomhilda von Shaft?"

"Yep."

"Well it is a small world after all," Jack announced with a chuckle as she walked away from the two and towards the clothes line to bring in her air freshened clothes.

As she walked to the clothes line, she took a deep breath and allowed the fresh night mountain air fill her lungs. Her tense body seemed looser from the proposition that Schultz had given her. It seemed as if an immense weight had been lifted off of her back as she looked up to the stars that sparkled brightly down at her as if telling her everything was going to be alright.

"Of course," the silence around her was broken by the soft voice of Schultz who was walking toward her, helping her grab the clothes off of the clothes line, "If for whatever reason we have to go to Mississippi, you will accompany us."

"What," she asked as she turned to him quickly, "I can't-"

"You can," he informed her with a smile as he folded her skirts over his arm as if they were a married couple helping each other with the chores, "But I doubt that there is any reason that we shall need to enter Mississippi."

* * *

**So there you have it. Just a little filler chapter to get inside of Jack as a character. **

**So we've gotten a little taste of her history. What do you think about that?**

**And I know I said that we'd be meeting her family in this chapter, well I lied. Hopefully it will be in the next chapter. **

**Reviews make my day.**


	13. Brittle Brothers

**Chapter 13: Brittle Brothers**

**Wow super long chapter for everyone today. Hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

Jack smiled as she looked through the beautiful dresses that lined the small store. Her hands lightly touched against the beautiful, colorful fabrics that would soon be touching against her skin. Her hand reached out to a beautiful pink and white gown that only the most sophisticated of Southern ladies wore. It would fit her tight, just the way it was supposed to, to give emphasis to a small waist and high, large, firm breasts. The fluffy skirts would work to hide her pistol inside the folds of the hidden pockets. The dress would lend her a girly air and hide her deadly nature, almost like a tiger in the Eastern world that she had been told about by travelling men when she was just a young girl, newly blossoming into womanhood.

"We'll be putting on an act," she overheard King telling Django as he sat lazily in a chair with his hat in lap, "You both will be playing a character," he turned to look at Jack who now held the pink and white cotton gown in front of her with a large, proud smile; he couldn't help but smile back at her.

Jack watched as Django grabbed an ugly brown top hat and placed it upon his head, turning to receive their feedback. She watched as Schultz gave a disapproving smile. She couldn't hold the bubbling giggle that was tugging at her insides as she looked at the men in front of her.

"No," Django asked.

She allowed the giggle to escape her as she shook her head and said, "That hat with them shoes? Really? It's a train wreck."

"But during the act," Schultz announced as Django and Jack continued to look through the clothes that surrounded them, "you can never break character."

"Don't worry," Jack announced, "I've played so many different parts in my life that sometimes I forget exactly who I am. You don't have to worry about me."

Schultz looked over to her with a mixture of concern and amusement painted across his face. It surprised him at how much she was opening up to the both of them with saying so little.

"And your character will be that of the valet," he announced as he pointed to Django with a smile upon his face. Jack rolled her eyes at Schultz's chosen fancy words.

"What that is?"

"What is that," Jack corrected, growing tired of his uneducated sentence structure.

"What is that," Django asked correctly as he looked away from Jack and back to Schultz.

"That's a fancy word for servant," he informed with a twirl of his hand.

"Valet," Django said, testing the newly learned word upon his tongue.

"And who am I to be characterizing today," Jack asked as she looked toward the German bounty hunter, "Your love sick slave."

"Oh you," he chided happily as he pointed to her with a large amused smile upon his face, "Close, but no. I have a fantastic role for you that I will enjoy seeing you play."

"And what is that," she asked crossing her arms across her chest and raising her brows questioningly.

"Mrs. King Schultz," he informed her happily as he grabbed a beautiful straw hat that was adorned with pink and white ribbon and placed it upon her head, "Prettiest girl in all of the South," he bopped her lightly on the nose as he watched her roll her eyes, "and the most deadly, but that can be our secret."

...

Black Jack pawed at the ground as he was lurched forward by the dental carriage. Django and his nag rode ahead of the dental carriage while Jack and Schultz sat close together as they entered through a spectacularly beautiful white fence that led up to an immaculate white pillared Southern mansion that she had seen only once before. Her heart puttered at the pristine white pillars and stairs as slaves looked up at them and to Django with wonder. Her hat billowed slightly in the hot wind as the wagon bounced across the dirt road that led up to the house.

King hooked his arm around hers as if he were the loving husband that couldn't bare to be away from his loving wife. She smiled at the soft touch of his well-worn hands upon her ivory white skin.

"I hope you have Django under control for all of this," she whispered to King as he brought the wagon to a stop and smiled up at the man in white that looked down upon them. He quickly questioned why Django rode upon a horse and Schultz was quick to take Django's side as he was a free man.

"Mr. Bennet," Schultz announced as he tapped Jack's hand lovingly, "I am Dr. King Schultz. I've been led to believe that you are a gentleman and a businessman and it is for these attributes that my valet and I, and let's not forget my lovely new bride, that we've rode from Texas to Tennessee to parlay with you now."

"Speak English," she hissed softly in his ear, a happy smile pasted upon her face, "They don't know what those words mean."

"I wish to purchase one of your nigger gals," Schultz announced as he looked at the colored women that stood below Mr. Bennet that stood at the top of the white stairs like a regal mayor of the small town.

"What for," he asked.

"Well my bride," he announced as he signaled to Jack who smiled as if she hadn't had a brain in her head, "She needs more feminine company on our long trips and also young Django here needs a companion. I feel he may get jealous over my new found love."

"You tellin' me that you and your jimmy," Mr. Bennet asked as he looked suspiciously down at them, "came all the way up here from Texas to purchase one of my nigga gals. No appointment, no nothin'."

"Well I'm afraid so," Schultz answered quickly.

"Well what if I was to say that I don't like you," Mr. Bennet asked, "or your fancy pants nigger. And I wouldn't sell you tinker's dam. Now what you got to say about that?"

Jack cast her eyes upward and said in a regal manner with a Southern accent that was doused in venom, "I'd say you wasn't a proper gentleman of the South, Mr. Bennet."

Mr. Bennet looked at her with shock in his eyes from never being talked to that way by a white Southern woman before.

"Oh honey," Schultz announced as he patted Jack's hand, "You must be nice to the man."

"I'm sorry darlin'," she replied as she cast her eyes toward Schultz and away from the man in white, "But rudeness is indescribably ugly to me."

"Oh I'm sure he didn't mean it Doodle," he replied softly as he placed a caring arm around her as she leaned into him as if she were a soft nerved young belle.

"Now Mr. Bennet," Schultz said as Jack leaned against him, "if you are the businessman that I've been led to believe, I have five thousand things that I can say to change your mind."

Jack peered upward as she listened to the soft beating of Schultz's heart. It sounded like a steady drum in her ear, a sound that she felt almost comforted by as she continued to lean against him. She felt herself wanting to be near that comforting sound for longer than was planned as the man in white straightened himself up and painted a large smile upon his face.

"Well come on here and get you somethin' cool to drink," Mr. Bennet announced happily, his words laced but nothing but false Southern charm, "I'm sure your lovely little bride will enjoy the charms of my home."

"Come Doodle," Schultz beckoned with a cute pet name that he had started to call her as he helped her down from the carriage like a true Southern gentleman would.

"Thank you King," she whispered as she held on tightly to his hand as they walked to the large pearly white stairs.

"Oh maybe," Schultz announced as he pointed to Django who still sat upon his nag, "you can provide one of your loveliest black creatures to escort young Django around your grounds."

"Oh that sounds like a divine idea," Jack announced, with a pure Mississippi accent, "He hasn't been with his own kind in some time now," she leaned forward to Mr. Bennet and whispered, "I think he's coming to think him a white man now with his new found freedoms. Can you imagine? The very idea of it."

"You don't agree with free slaves," Mr. Bennet asked as he looked at the lovely women dressed in the most feminine of cotton attire.

"Oh no," she answered as she looked around him, "Our very way of life would be destroyed if you set all them niggers go. They'd ruin the entire country."

Mr. Bennet chuckled at her answer and extended his arm to her which she quickly took as he whispered, "I couldn't agree more with every word you just said, Mrs. Schultz."

"So how about it," Schultz asked.

"Well absolutely," Mr. Bennet answered as he looked down at his female slaves and yelled, "Hey Patina."

The female slave turned quickly from petting Fritz and said obediently, "Yes sir Big Daddy?"

"Uh," he announced as he pointed to Django and then looked to Schultz and asked, "What's your jimmy's name again?"

"Django," Jack and Schultz said in unison.

"Patina, suga," Mr. Bennet said, "why don't you take Django and show him all the grounds 'round here and show him all the pretty stuff."

"As you please Big Daddy."

"Mr. Bennet," Schultz announced, "I must remind you that Django is a free man. He cannot be treated like a slave. Within the bounds of good taste, he must be treated as an extension of myself."

"Understood Schultz," Bennet answered, "Patina, suga, Django isn't a slave. Django is a free man, ya understand? You can't treat him like any of the other niggers around here cus he ain't like any of the other niggers around here. Ya got it?"

"You want I should treat him like white folks?"

"Oh good Lord," Jack whispered as she hid her face from second hand embarrassment.

"No," he answered quickly, "That's not what I said."

"Then I don't know what you won't Big Daddy."

"Sweetheart," Jack said as she became irritated with this conversation, "Treat him like an African prince. Ya know with nigger respect and what not."

"Yas mam," Patina answered as she turned away from the group.

"Thank ya suga," Bennet called after her as he looked down at the dark haired beauty beside him that had her arm linked around his.

"Come on in," Bennet announced as he walked inside of his house just as a house slave began to play the violin softly beside them.

"So how long you two been married," he asked as he removed his arm from Jack's and walked toward the liquor wall.

Jack quickly looked over to Schultz for an answer; a worried smile crept upon her lips as she listened to the clinking of glass against glass and the pouring of amber liquid into the glasses.

"Two years," Schultz answered as he made his way toward Jack and placed his arm protectively around her waist, "Best decision I ever made," he chuckled as he looked over to the man in white, "I don't know how I ever convinced her to marry me."

"Really now," Bennet asked, "Well you're a mighty lucky man. She seems like a fine lady."

"Why thank you," she answered for herself as she looked up to Schultz with a gleam in her eyes, "I just can't wait until we are finally back home."

"Oh and where's that exactly," Bennet asked as he handed the couple a glass of whiskey each.

"Back to Texas," Schultz announced.

"We're thinkin' about startin' our own little cotton plantation," she informed him happily as she walked over to the large window that looked over all the land that 'Big Daddy' Bennet owned. She could see lay about slaves playing around under the trees instead of working as was their only lot in life to do.

"Really," Big Daddy asked, "It's a lot more work than it looks. Slaves always runnin' away on ya. And what with that nigger country Haiti, it makes one worry about the idea of murderous raids happening within the nigger community."

"That's nothin' whips and bullets won't put an end to," Jack said coldly as she turned a dark eye toward the man in white who gave her a smile in return.

"So how about we talk business," Schultz asked as he took a sip of his own drink.

"One nigga gal for five thousand dollars," Big Daddy asked, "I don't see why we can't come to a deal on that. Hell, you can have the pick of the litter. Ain't got much use for them nigga girls, they can't measure up to a jimmy."

Big Daddy looked at the strange couple with a suspicious eye as his house slave continued to play the violin.

"I tell ya what," Big Daddy announced with a large, cunning smile upon his face, "Your lady love looks awfully light on her feet, how 'bout a little dance before this deal is finished?"

"Well uh," Schultz stuttered as he looked over to Jack who held a soft smile upon her face.

Jack sat her glass down upon the windowsill and turned to Big Daddy and replied, "I'd love a dance."

She held her hands up waiting for Big Daddy to come forward, but he stayed in his own place, not moving on inch from where he stood. He smiled at her and then looked over to Schultz.

"I meant with your husband," Big Daddy informed her, "You two have danced before, haven't ya?"

"Well it's been an awfully long time since," Schultz replied as he walked toward Jack and placed his hand upon hers and his other hand against her waist were it teased of its own accord at her hips.

"Nonsense," Jack whispered with a smile as she closed the distance between the two of them. She closed her eyes as she smelled his aromatic scent and allowed him to pull her across the dance floor. Her free hand grabbed the ends of her white skirt as they glided as if they were on puffy white clouds in the sky across the polished wood floors.

Schultz looked into the darkest blue eyes that he had ever seen in his life and saw a sparkle that he had always dreamed of seeing in a woman's eyes that he held in his arms. Sure, he'd been with other women, but he'd never seen the sparkle in the eye, the quick witted words, or even the way that she understood the nature of things in this world. He found himself becoming completely entrapped in her eyes as they danced together in the large white house that they were strangers in. He felt a sudden sense of the world disappearing as he listened to a laugh escape her crimson lips and he felt a jolly chuckle escape him as he listened to her joyous chuckles.

She giggled as the house slave quickened the song and they moved in quick unison together to the new tempo, their feet never once stepping upon the other as their movements became more pronounced and elaborate, circling in the most unique fashion that was known from the waltz, but with their own sense of style added into the dance to make it truly their own. It was as if they were made to dance together. Her giggles turned to uproarious laughter as she dropped the end of her skirt and wrapped her arms around his neck as they spun together. She placed her nose against his ear as her laughter slowly turned to soft chuckles as he wrapped his arms tightly around her back as they ended their funny little spin.

Big Daddy clapped as the married couple came to a stop. Their arms quickly untwined from each other's bodies as they turned to look at the man in white, after momentarily getting lost in a world of their own.

"Congratulations Dr. Schultz," Big Daddy announced as he clapped loudly, "You have found a lady that truly loves-"

Shots pierced through the house, interrupting Big Daddy's words.

"Shit," Jack hissed under her voice and shoved Schultz forward, "Go get him!"

"What's going on," Big Daddy asked as he hurried after King, but was quickly stopped by Jack's strong arm.

"Mr. Bennet," she announced as she looked up at him with batting lashes, "I'd love to see the rest of your spectacular house. Maybe the kitchen?"

Another shot rang out and screams from a slave girl erupted through the house once again. Big Daddy jerked away from her and grabbed his rifle, his family members hurrying after him with their own guns in hand, acting is if a war was starting in their own yard.

She hurried down the stairs, stopping quickly to look towards the back yard of the plantation where the Bennet family and other overseers were hurrying toward.

"God damn it Django," she hissed as she rushed down the stairs and pulled herself into the dental carriage. She whipped Fritz hard on the rump and forced him forward with Black Jack following behind.

As she drove the carriage, she watched as Schultz raised his gun and shot a man on horseback running through the cotton field. She felt adrenaline fill her body as she watched red, hot blood splatter across the white cotton. Sudden, dangerous lust filled her loins as she watched him with the gun, the first time that she had ever seen him shoot. She had to admit, he was a devil with a gun.

She pulled forward, placing the carriage slightly in front of the oncoming weaponized family as Schultz and Big Daddy exchanged words about the Brittle Brothers. She watched as Big Daddy held his gun with deadly intent toward Django and Schultz. A mad sense of anger moved through her body at the silent threat and she jerked her pistol from its hiding place and pointed it toward Big Daddy.

"I suggest that if you don't want you and yours filled with bullets," she hissed with a steady hand and dark intentions, "by Mad Jack Hatfield then you put your guns away."

She heard the whispers of her name move throughout the small horde as she held her pistol at them.

"She's the quickest gun in the South," a loud whisper announced for all to hear. She smiled at the sentiment, but held the pistol firm as Schultz continued on with his lecture of how he worked for the United States. She listened to Schultz talk about if they tried to use deadly force against them and his words of hanging caused another surge of unmistakable fiery lust move threw her body once again.

"Get off my land," Big Daddy Bennet hissed as he glared at Schultz.

"Post haste," Schultz announced happily as he placed the warrant back into his pocket and turned to Django, "Load up the bodies as quickly as you can and let's get out of here."

She moved slightly over as he climbed up onto the dental carriage beside her and allowed her to drive forward.

"Let's get the fuck out of Tennessee," she hissed in his ear as she shot a glare over to Big Daddy Bennet, who held a dark gleam in his eyes, the same gleam that Jack held in her eyes when she was planning someone's death.

...

The small group hurried back to a clearing just a few miles away from the Bennet plantation. Jack felt a mixture of rage and passion fueling through her veins as Fritz hurried forward and Django followed behind.

"He could have gotten us killed," she hissed as she turned to Schultz, rage sparkled in her dark eyes.

"But he didn't," Schultz answered, "He got the Brittle Brothers for me."

"I don't care," she hissed in anger, "He put us all in danger. If you don't put him in his place, then I will."

"His place," Schultz asked in confusion.

She rolled her eyes as she quickly pulled on the reins and stopped Fritz. Rage bubbled inside of her as she jumped off of the wagon, ripping the ends of her white skirt as she did so. She tripped slightly as she hurried forward, but it didn't help to dissolve the anger that was running violently, rampantly, through her veins, filling each cell in her body with extreme rage.

She hurried toward Django and looked up at him. Her eyes sparkled as her anger boiled over as she looked up at the freed slave.

"Get off your horse," she demanded.

"Jack," Schultz hissed.

"Why," Django asked.

Her anger boiled over at his question, his outright refusal to listen to her demand. Red covered her eyes as she felt her body moving on its own. Her fingers dug into Django's bright blue clothes as she ripped him off of his horse and threw him to the ground. She watched as he fell on his stomach and laid there for a moment as he tried to regain the wind in him.

"When I tell you to do somethin' you fucking do it," she hissed as she lost all control of her emotions. She felt her foot lift from the ground and push him onto his back. The want to beat him mercilessly crossed her mind, but what little of her calm self-remained told her to not physically harm him.

"You almost killed us," she screamed as she glared down at him as she watched him look up at her with anger in his eyes. She watched as his hands reached for his gun on his belt, but she quickly beat him. She clicked her gun back and pointed it right at his head.

"Don't think that you are not worth the bullet Django," she screamed as the rage slowly started to fade away from her, "Do not ever, EVER, think that I won't think twice about killing either of you!"

"Jacqueline," Schultz screamed as he hurried over to her side in hopes of calming her down.

"Get away from me King," she warned, "I will shoot him right between the eyes if you come a step closer."

King placed his hand upon the butt of his own pistol. If he would have to use it then he would, even though he did not want to. He could incapacitate her, if he were a better shot he could shot the gun out of her hand, but the feat was almost impossible without someone losing a finger.

"I'm sorry," Django whispered through deep breaths.

Jack took a deep breath as she glared down at him, her heart beating erratically as she glared down at him. She backed away slightly but kept her gun focused on him.

"Do not ever think you are safe around me," she warned him dangerously, "If you ever threaten my life again, I will not think twice. Do you understand me?"

Django nodded.

"Say it," she demanded harshly.

"I understand."

"Good," she hissed and then shot her pistol with a wicked smile upon her face as blood splattered onto the white and pink of her skirts.

She smiled as she watched Django's hands move over himself quickly in an attempt to make sure all of his body parts were intact. She chuckled as she leaned over and picked up the dead body of the rattlesnake that lay beside him and showed it to him.

"I saved your life," she informed him as she put her gun back in its proper hiding place, "Again."

Django's eyes went wide as he saw her hold the five foot rattler over him, the head lay beside him, still moving from nerves.

A sign escaped Schultz as he watched Jack walk away from the both of them.

"They are going to come after us," he announced as he turned to Jack who was placing the dead snake upon the wagon and then walking to untie Black Jack.

"I know," she answered, "We need to get the horses far away from here."

...

The day turned into the darkest night with no moon to give any sliver of light as the small group headed for the woods just above the clearing. Schultz filled the tooth above the carriage with dynamite.

"They're coming," Jack whispered as she looked off into the distance. She could see them from where she sat perched upon the tree, "There's about twenty, thirty, I can't really tell."

The sounds of horse stomping filled the night air as the hooded men from the Bennet plantation hurried forward. They quickly surrounded the dental carriage in search of Django and Schultz to torture and do who knows what to Jack.

She turned to Schultz and watched as he pointed his gun, she felt that strange familiar passion bubble inside of her as she watched him shoot the tooth with perfect accuracy.

"Woah," Django screamed as the carriage went up in flames, tossing men from their horses.

Jack chuckled as most of the hooded men hurried away from the scene on their horses, yanking the white bags off of their head as they ran away.

"Bull's eye," Schultz announced happily as he looked over to Django and to Jack who was looking at him with a look that he could not quite comprehend.

"Look at 'em run," Django announced as he watched in astonished amusement.

"Cowards tend to do that," Schultz said as he reloaded his rifle and pointed it toward Big Daddy Bennet who was trying to get his large white stallion under control.

Jack smiled as she watched Schultz look over to Django and ask as he handed over the rifle to him, "Would you care to?"

Jack watched as Django aligned his sights and followed Big Daddy as he finally got atop his horse and hurried away from the scene of the explosion.

"He's getting away," Schultz whispered.

"I got him."

"Big Daddy's getting away."

"I got him."

Jack watched as the bullet escaped the long rifle and pierced through the night air, stopping when the bullet found its target inside Big Daddy Bennet's brain pan. She watched as blood spewed out from the wound and stained the white hair of his horse that kept running.

Schultz looked over to Jack to see her smiling and said to her, "The kid's a natural."

"Not yet," she informed him, "But with practice and time, he can be."

"Oh," Schultz asked, "Is that an offer to stay?"

She looked at him with a bright smile and shrugged her shoulders, "I was thinking that we could go up in the mountains during the winter. It'd be a gold mine for a bounty hunter like you."

She crawled down the tree and smiled as she looked up at him, watching him climb carefully down the tree.

"We need to get back to our camp," she informed him as she looked toward the hill, "They may come back."

"That's an excellent idea, Jacqueline," he informed her with a smile, "Django," he announced as he looked up in the tree, "We're going back to the mountains for the night."

...

Jack sat beside the high fire with a blanket wrapped tightly around her. The cotton dress that she had worn throughout the day was doing nothing to fight against the bitingly harsh wind that cut through the cliffs. Django sat in the corner eating on a can of beans with his own blanket wrapped around him. She watched as Schultz made his way towards them with a large smile upon his face as he sat beside her.

"So how'd you know Broomhilda was German," Django asked.

Jack looked over to Schultz, interested in his answer.

"Broomhilda is a German name," he informed Django, "If they named her, it stands to reason that they'd be German."

"Lots of gals where you from named Broomhilda," Django asked as he poked at his food.

"Broomhilda is the name of a character in the most popular of all the German legends," he answered as he looked down at his food and then to Jack who was not eating anything, "You aren't hungry?"

"No," she answered and shook her head.

"There's plenty."

"I'm fine," she answered, "Thank you though."

"There's a story about Broomhilda," Django asked.

"Well yes there is," he answered and looked over to Jack with a worried glance at the fact that she wasn't eating.

Django placed his plate upon the ground and walked over to the both of them. Jack smiled up at him as he sat down in front of them, looking up at Schultz like he was a young school child wanting to learn the history of the world.

"Do you know it?"

"Every German knows that story," Schultz informed him with a smile and watched as Django looked at him with almost childlike curiosity in his eyes, "Would you like me to tell it?"

Django shook his head as he sat cross-legged upon the ground.

"I'd like to hear it too," Jack whispered, "From what I've heard about Django's Broomhilda, it will take a Nubian queen to beat her beauty."

"Well Broomhilda was a princess," Schultz told, he smiled as he watched Jack place her hand under her chin and listen to him with full attention upon him, "She was the daughter of the God of all Gods. Anyway, her father is really mad at her."

"What she do?"

"I can't exactly remember, she disobeys him in some way," Schultz informed him.

Jack turned away from Schultz and looked to the ground. This movement caught Schultz's attention immediately which alerted him to the fact that Jacqueline Hatfield and Mr. Hatfield were most likely at each other's throats. It made him wonder if that was the reason why she did not want to go back to Mississippi.

"So he puts her on top of a mountain," he continues on with the story.

"Broomhilda's on a mountain?"

"It's a German legend, there's always going to be a mountain in there somewhere," he replied with a chuckle, his eyes moved to Jack who was now looking at him once again with full attention, attention that he enjoyed having, "And he puts a fire breathing dragon there to guard the mountain and he surrounds her in a circle of Hell fire. There Broomhilda shall remain, unless a hero arises brave enough to save her."

"Does the fella arise?"

"Yes, Django," he answered with another amused chuckle at Django's wonder, "In fact he does. A fellow named Siegfried."

"Does Siegfried save her?"

"Quite spectacularly so," he answered happily, "He scales the mountain because he's not afraid of it. He slays the dragon because he's not afraid of it. And he walks through Hell fire because Broomhilda is worth it."

Jack smiled at his words, but shivered as a chill moved through her pale body.

"I know how he feel," Django admitted.

"I think I'm just starting to realize that," Schultz admitted.

Jack pulled herself from her sitting stature and pulled the blanket tighter around her body as she walked away from them. She sighed as the harsh wind blow through her long hair. She walked to the side of the cliff and overlooked the mountain range that surrounded them.

As she stood there, underneath the stars, she truly felt like a little person. A person that had betrayed her father, lost her sister, and become a wanted outlaw.

"What happened," she asked as she looked up to the stars as if they would give her the answers that she so desperately needed. She stood there alone, ignoring the voices of Django and Schultz as she just took the moment of peace and quiet. She shivered violently, but she wanted to be alone for just a little while longer.

"Jack," she heard the accented voice of Schultz whisper from behind her.

"Hey," she replied softly as she turned to look up at him as he walked toward her with a soft smile upon his face.

"Are you," he stopped as he looked over at her, taking in her pallid skin that shivered in the cold, "Are you okay?"

"No," she said, forcing a smile upon her face, "I'm fine. I just," she stopped and shook her head, "I've had a lot," she paused again, "A helluva lot of things on my mind here lately."

She turned to him and smiled, but another shiver racked through her body as she looked him over.

"Here," he announced as he pulled his own coat off and placed it around her shoulders in an attempt to keep her warm while ignoring his own need for warmth.

"No," she whispered as she looked at him, her dark eyes staring deeply into his, "I-I-I"

She felt her body move forward, her fingers grasping at his dark grey vest in an attempt to pull him closer toward her. Her lips stopped just above his, stopping herself from doing something that she may regret.

"If you want to kiss me," she whispered as her nose snuggled against his own, "Then do it now before it's too late."

He closed the small space between them as the thoughts of her gleaming eyes during the dance at the Bennet mansion danced through his mind. His lips lightly moved along with hers at first before slowly becoming more and more intimate. He wrapped his arms around her, his fingers absently curling into her long dark hair while her hands played at the curls of his neck. He could hear her heart quicken as they stood so close to each other.

There was nothing vulgar about the kiss. It was a kiss that was a long time coming. A kiss that was filled with restrained want that made up their lives. A perfect kiss between and outlaw and a bounty hunter, the forbidden fruit of their lives.

She pulled away with a large smile upon her face as her hand moved to his jawline, touching his wonderful beard. She moved close to him once again and placed another soft kiss upon his lips as she leaned against him, taking comfort in the warmth that radiated from him.

"Django," Schultz said as he grabbed her wrists softly and looked into her glimmering dark blue eyes, "Django, has agreed to bounty hunt in the mountains with me until the snow thaws."

She smiled at him and nodded as she forced herself away from him. Her body ached to be near him, but she had to be stronger than her passions.

"Where are you going," he asked as he watched her slowly walk away from him.

"I'm uh," she stopped and turned to him, "I'm really tired. It's a job pretending to be your wife."

* * *

**How about that? What a long chapter! What was your favorite part?**


	14. Family Matters

**Chapter 14: Family Matters**

Winter had arrived and the snow had fallen and had yet to melt away. The trio had become closer in their time together in the mountains. Small kisses were stolen between Schultz and Jack, but nothing was ever said about them. Everything had become monotonous and predictable as they had cut their way through the mountainous wilderness. The cold wind bit through each of them as if it were trying to rip them in half and expose their insides to the brutal cold that surrounded them.

Jack held the heavy covers tightly around her as the wind blew across the small, simple tent that they had put up on the outskirts of the winter forest in hopes of keeping bears and wolves away from their campsite. She smiled as she heard Schultz and Django talking from outside of the tent. She pulled herself from her position and stood inside the tent with an arched back as she grabbed her newly fashioned coat made out of a wolf's pelt that they had brought down just before the bitter cold entered the scene, and pulled it protectively around her slim body.

"Ah her majesty awakes," Schultz announced happily as he turned to see her walking toward the fire were he had kept a large metal tin filled with fresh hot coffee just for her when she awoke.

She chuckled at him as she poured her a cup of coffee and grabbed a few pieces of warm squirrel meat that Django had shot that morning for breakfast. She watched with a smile on her face as she watched the two men play around in the snow like they were young children home for a snow day.

"What are you two doing," she asked as she sat back and watched them roll three balls of snow into various sizes.

"Makin' a snowman," Django answered with a smile as he looked over to her and waved at the man sized tower of snow.

"It looks more snow than man," she said with a chuckle as she pulled herself from the warm morning fire and walked toward Black Jack who was tied to a dying tree along with Django's nag and Fritz.

"Wha' she doin'," Django asked as he turned his attentions to Schultz who was watching the woman that stole kisses from him every day since the fateful night that they had decided to team up to bring in outlaws for cash.

"You can't have a snowman without a face," she announced as she lifted the ends of her skirts as she carefully walked across the snowy ground. She quickly moved passed them, allowing a smile to come across her face as she snuck a quick look at Schultz in his matching coat made of wolf.

They watched as she carefully placed black coals into the snowball to form a smirking face. She turned to them with a smile as the newly made snow man smiled at the happy trio.

"Now you have the great outlaw Mad Jessie Frost," she announced with a chuckle and a childlike clap of her hands as she turned to admire her masterpiece made out of pure white snow, "Leader of the infamous Frost Bite Gang."

"King is gonna teach me how to shoot," Django informed her as he placed his hand upon his belt where his gun lay lazily against his hip.

"Oh," she announced with a coy smile, as the old familiar chill rolled over her body when she thought of the good dentist reaching for his gun and pulling the trigger, "I guess it would make better sense if an actual outlaw taught you how to shoot."

Jack looked at him and pointed at his pistol and demanded, "Take your piece out, as shabby and old as it is it can still do major work on someone."

Django did as he was told, rather slowly. Jack rolled her eyes and quickly grabbed hers and pointed at him.

"Bang," she yelled as she glared at him, "You're dead before you even get your gun out. Now," she said as she twirled her pistol upon her finger and placed it quickly back in its place upon her hip, "Try again. Keep practicin' until you can pull that thing out quicker than me, which let's face it," she chuckled, "will be the day that I die."

She watched with a keen eye as Django pulled his gun from its holster and shot at the snowman, hitting the poor inanimate creature where his stomach would be.

"Nice," she announced, "Gut shot are almost always lethal," she smiled as she walked to where Django stood and whipped her gun out of her holster and shot faster than either Django or Schultz could. The bullet hastened through the cold winter air and found its resting place in what would have been the forehead of the snowman.

"But I shot in the head is always lethal," she stated with a chuckle as she twirled the pistol around her finger in a way that silently bragged about her gun slinging skills.

"You're fast," Django answered as he watched her walk away from him and walk up to Schultz as she put a comforting hand upon the bounty hunter's shoulder.

"I'd say the quickest gun in the South," Schultz replied with a proud tone as he looked down on her.

"No," she answered, "I'll never be seen as the quickest…I'll just be seen as a strange occurrence. Women like me will never be seen as anything but a strange occurrence in a time dominated by men."

Both men watched as she walked passed them with her head held high. Schultz watched as she stumbled slightly as she walked through the high snow deeper into the forest that surrounded them.

"Where are you going," he called after her, but received no answer in return.

He shook his head as he watched Django continue to shoot at the poor snow man, each time his shots become more and more accurate. He couldn't help the proud smile that came over him as he watched the man that he had freed become an excellent shot.

Pride, it had become an emotion that he was feeling quite a lot of, whether it was from something Jack said or did or something that Django learned or revealed. He had never felt such a swell of pride before. These two devils that traveled along with him seemed to bring out a different person in him. Django brought out the caring, sympathetic teacher within him.

Jack, well she brought feelings that he had never felt before, feelings of immense want and need with a mixture of confusion with each glance she gave him. She made his heart beat quickly and slow to an almost stop seemingly at the same time with just a smile on her face. She didn't even have to say a word to him and he was lost within her dark blue eyes. Her personality was something that seemed raw, almost tangible. Even though she denied it, she was the living embodiment of the times that they were living in.

"Whoohoo," Django announced happily as he destroyed the snowman with each flying bullet, he effectively pulled Schultz from his musings.

"How 'bout that," Django asked happily as he looked over his work.

"Well," Schultz said with a smile as he observed the destroyed snowman that they had spent a good while building, "You successfully killed the snowman. Congratulations."

...

Jack stripped off her clothes as she stood at the edge of the still, deep, warm spring. A shiver ran through her body that sent chills all over her naked body as she quickly pushed herself into the luke warm water where she could get the filth of a day's ride and the gun powder that had stained her body from the previous day's successful bounty excursions.

She moved through the deep water quickly, allowing her body to become accustom to the cool water as she moved around in the deep water alone. She laid her head back slightly in the water, allowing her dark hair to become soaked which caused the sweat and dirt to escape her long hairs.

Thoughts of King Schultz found its way into her mind as she bathed alone in the serene spring as the harsh winter wind blew through the tall trees around her causing the few leaves to remain to bustle in the winter air.

She smiled as she thought of the man that she had kissed on occasions. She had never thought of ever trusting her life with a bounty hunter, the kind of person that was sworn by the United States government to bring outlaws like her in dead or alive, but here she was, nonetheless, traveling with her kind's sworn enemy. To make the idea, even more silly, she trusted him and had found herself thinking more and more about him as the days passed on. She couldn't go for a day's ride alone without thinking of him, or spend a peaceful night sleeping without him prancing through her dreams.

There was something that she trusted within him. Something that made her almost weak in the knees. She couldn't quite explain the feelings that she had for the man, but there was no doubt that there was some kind of strange feelings lurking, scratching at her heart like a wild raccoon scratching at the backdoor for scraps.

A chuckle escaped her as she thought about all the times she gazed into his eyes. There was a truth inside of his eyes that promised her that he would never leave her, that he would indeed protect her from the sadistic monsters that lurked in Mississippi. She enjoyed hearing him speak. He stuck to his morals. He did not believe in killing the weak, only the ones that deserved to die for doing unjustly things in this world. He stuck to his morals like no one else she had ever met before. There weren't very many men that were wholeheartedly good like King Schultz was.

What bounty hunter would protect a notorious outlaw?

What white man would buy a slave just to set him free afterwards?

There wasn't any other man that she had ever met that answered both questions in his actions. He was indeed a good man with a big heart and something inside of her wanted to know if she could ever have a place in his heart.

"It's silly," she whispered to herself as she swam slowly back towards the bank of the spring. She knew in her mind that a bounty hunter and an outlaw with a happy trigger finger could never become more than respectful enemies. She knew that if the time ever did come that either he or she would show their real colors and destroy the other, it was just a matter of when, but there was never any harm in enjoying your enemy's company, even for just a little while.

Jack quickly pulled her old, heavy, faded clothes back onto her newly washed body. She quickly pulled on her heavy fur coat as a harsh wind blew around her. A snap came from somewhere in the forest around her and she quickly pulled her gun from its holster and held it threateningly in front of her as she stood silently awaiting for any other noise to escape from the woods around her.

"King," she announced as she looked with sharp eyes, "Django."

"Not exactly," she heard a familiar voice from her past announce from behind a large, round tree.

"Show yourself," she demanded as she pulled the pin all the back on her pistol and watched as slight anger filled her at the thought of almost being ambushed while she was bathing.

"Alright, alright," the male voice announced and emerged from his hiding place with his pistol pointed toward the ground to show that he meant her no harm.

Jack watched the tall, lanky man stumble out of his hiding spot and she held her gun higher as she instantly remembered the familiar face of Tommy McCoy, an old childhood friend that happened to be related to Jack McCoy.

"Where's the others," she hissed as her eyes slowly moved away from him and examined the surrounding forest around her in hopes of finding the rest of the McCoy clan hiding in wait to shoot her in the back like the cowards that they were.

"They aren't here," Tommy answered, "Here, I'll put my gun on the ground," he lowered his gun to the hard ground as he watched her carefully, "I ain't gonna hurt you. I just came to warn you."

"Warn me about what," she hissed in anger as she kept her pistol trained on him, right between the eyes were a single shot would end his little life.

"Boyd," he informed her with a shake of his head, his words were quick and fueled by fear, "He ain't right in the head. Not since you gone and murdered Bobby, he's gone crazy with anger. He's done killed two cousins for wantin' to leave and another one died from the cold and was eaten by the wolves. He couldn't even give his own keen a proper burial. Just left him out in the cold."

Jack's eyes furrowed as she looked at the young man in front of her as he told of the crazy leader of the McCoy family.

"He wants you dead, Jack," Tommy concluded, "And he ain't stoppin' tell he sees your blood run."

"I didn't kill Bobby," she admitted quickly, "I only killed Jack and that little shit cousin of yours that raped my little sister," she shrugged her shoulders, "What is that term 'an eye for an eye'?"

"I don't blame you for killin' them," Tommy informed her, "But he is wilder than a Texas rattlesnake and he wants you dead."

"How'd Bobby die," she asked quickly as she glared at him with imposing eyes, her gun still aimed at him with deadly intention.

"He was dragged to death," Tommy answered, his Southern drawl was as clear as crystal, "There was a letter that had the Hatfield name on it."

"He was dragged," she hissed as a course of anger ran through her. Her eyes shifted quickly away from Tommy and to the ground as she allowed that information to process, "That son of a bitch is followin' me!"

"You ain't gonna kill me too are ya Jack," he asked as he looked at her with pleading eyes, "I ain't got nothin' to do with what happened to that Indian friend of yours, I didn't want-"

Her head snapped upwards at Tommy McCoy's words as she hurried forward as her rage moved her forward.

"What are you doing," he asked as he watched as Jack's pistol touched his forehead.

"Get on your knees right now," she hissed dangerously as her eyes sparkled with nothing but rage as she looked down at him. He quickly did as he said and looked up at her with a pleading look in his eyes, though he did not plead for his life as he looked down the barrel of her pistol.

"What did he do to the Indians," she hissed as she glared down at him.

"He," Tommy started, "He burnt down every house, and made everyone kill the Indians."

"All of them?!"

"All of them," he cried, "Women and children too. I haven't been able to sleep peacefully without that poor little Indian girl's cries hauntin' me like a demon ghost."

"You son of a bitch," she hissed in anger as she readied to shot him in the head and end his pathetic McCoy life.

"No, no, no," he begged, "I didn't do any of it! I tried to stop him. Please. You know me, Jacqueline! We went to school together. Me and your older brother used to read George Lippard and George Thompson in the barn while doing chores, you know me, Jack. I ain't part of this. I want out."

She glared down up at him as he begged her not to kill him. She removed the pistol from his forehead and placed it back into her holster.

"Get up! You aren't worth the price of a bullet," she demanded in a hiss as the rage that originally fueled her assault quickly faded away, "You go back and act like you did not see me. You got that?"

"Yes mam," he answered quickly.

"I'll take care of Boyd McCoy," she informed him, "And if I find out that you tell him about this, don't think I won't hesitate to waste a bullet on you, whether you are an old schoolmate or not. You understand Tommy?"

"Yes," he cried as he pushed himself to his feet and thanked her over and over again.

"No get out of here," she hissed as she glared at him. "I don't want to see your face ever again."

She watched as he hurried away from her as adrenaline raced through his body. She watched as he stumbled on his way through the barren woods that surrounded them to where he had hidden his horse.

Her eyes burned at the information that Tommy McCoy had relayed to her. Wahl was after her, he was probably watching her from somewhere high with a rifle pointed right at her head. She shook her head in anger as she hurried back towards the two men that she had left alone. She knew that they needed to hurry and get out of this place as quickly as possible if Wahl was after her, they couldn't stand a chance against him, even if it were three on one.

"We need to go," she screamed as she hurried toward Black Jack and pulled herself onto the saddle. She pulled him away from the other horses and glared down at Schultz who was looking at her with confusion on his face.

"What," Django asked.

"Get on your god damned horses and let's go," she hissed as she turned away from them.

"We have to get-"

"No," she screamed as fear coursed through her veins.

Schultz could see the fear in her eyes, a fear that he had only seen on occasion. He quickly looked around them, something had obviously scared her.

"Forget the supplies we have to go-"

"Well look at who we have here," a familiar voice announced from behind her. The horse that the man rode on pawed at the ground and snorted as they approached closely to Jack and Black Jack. The two horses snorted at each other as they touched noses in a fashion that seemed to be a long lost hug of friendship.

Schultz drew his gun quickly and pointed at the man that had a gun pointed at Jack's skull. He watched as she took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. She turned to see the bearded man wearing a large bear skinned coat and a black hat placed slightly upon his greying head.

"Can people please stop pointing guns at the back of my head," she announced as she slapped the long rifle away from her head and turned to look at the man that had finally captured her.

"Now little sister," the man announced, feigning sadness, "Is that anyway to greet your dear uncle? I've been lookin' for you and your sister for quite some time."

"I'm not going back Uncle Wahl," she hissed and then turned to look at Schultz with a pained expression that painted her sharp features.

"Yes," he stated harshly, "You are."

"I'm not leaving them out here alone," she informed her uncle, "The McCoys are after me…and they know that they are helpin' me. I won't leave them out here to fight my mess when Boyd McCoy and the others show up."

Wahl smiled at his young niece and then looked over to Schultz and Django with a welcoming smile and said, "Of course they can come. Any man that didn't kill you in your sleep is welcome in a Hatfield home."

She shook her head at his words.

"Your daddy has been waitin' to get you back," he informed her with a smile as he turned his horse around.

Jack turned her head toward Schultz and shook her head in annoyance as he looked at her with slight confusion on his face.

"Get your things together," she demanded of the bounty hunter and the freed slave as a sarcastic grin crossed her features, "You all are coming to my house."

* * *

**So we are going to meet the Hatfield clan in the next chapter? **

***Also, the books that Tommy were referring to was actually pornography from the 1840s and 1850s, so a hahahaha moment for anyone that knows the culture of the mid 1800s :) **

**So what is going to happen now? **

**Is Jack and King's relationship to ultimately fail because of who they are and what they have chosen to be in their lives?**

**Will King learn more about Jack in this new familial setting? **

**Review and tell me everything that you are thinking please. I love long reviews :)**


	15. Meet the Parents

**Chapter 15: Meet the Parents**

Wahl Hatfield rode ahead of the original trio that he had escorted of the cold mountains. He hummed a tune as he sat atop Altivo, who almost sashayed across the macadam paved road with his head held high.

He turned to look at his niece who rode beside the German bounty hunter that had kept her safe through their travels from Texas to Tennessee. He had to be grateful that at least someone else had looked over her and watched her back. Her hair had curled and frizzed slightly as they had moved out of the cold mountain air and into the cold, brisk forested area just outside of Mississippi where the Hatfield family laid claim to hundreds of acres of timber country. His niece held a painting of immense annoyance upon her sharp features each time he turned to look back at him, allowing him to see just how annoyed she was with him for retrieving her and bringing her back home to her family.

"Dr. King, is it," he asked as he moved his attentions from his young niece and to the German bounty hunter with the magnificent beard.

"Yes," Schultz answered as he twirled his mustache lightly as Fritz carried him forward.

"I want to thank you," Wahl said with a smile on his face as he turned to look forward, "for taking good care of my niece. I'm sure she can be a livewire, hell, every Hatfield is."

Schultz smiled at the man in front of him. True he had been taken off guard by the sudden appearance of the mysterious man that had been following them, had made him uneasy and worried for Jack's safety, but he could see now that the man meant her no harm. He was just simply being the caring uncle that had wanted to bring his relations back home.

"It was no problem at all," he answered with a shrug of his shoulders and quickly turned to look at Jack with a devious smile upon his handsome, bearded face as he added with a chuckle, "In fact, she was quite the charming little devil."

Jack rolled her eyes as she held the reins in her hand tightly, keeping the slight anger that was boiling inside of her at a fair temperature.

"Was Daddy mad," she asked quickly as her eyes glared daggers into her uncle's back.

"Well," Wahl announced with a deep chuckle that resonated from deep inside his chest, "He wasn't happy."

"You know I had to do it," she informed him quickly, "I couldn't let that-"

"Oh I understand perfectly," Wahl answered as whistles from nearby hiding places erupted from around them, signaling to them that they had finally arrived upon Hatfield land, "But my brother is a stubborn ol' jackass with the hardest head I've ever seen on a man. He's pretty sore with you."

Jack lowered her eyes as she felt Schultz's questioning eyes look her over. He would find out momentarily what exactly she had done and just what type of people she was bred from. Her heart beat faster as the sound of pounding hooves approached them.

In the short distance ahead of them, she could see two men, her curious cousins, riding toward them with smiles pasted upon their faces as they quickly surrounded the two of them.

" 'Bout time you got home," a dark haired Dale Hatfield, at the age of twenty six, announced as he brought his palomino mare to a stop in front of the small group. He had sharp features and brilliant cerulean blue eyes. There was no doubt that he was related to Jacqueline Hatfield just by his sharp facial features. He stood six foot even and had a smile that had been notoriously known to bring all the young virginal girls out of their unmentionables.

"I was only doing somethin' that you wouldn't do," Jack hissed as she glared at her older cousin.

"Now, now," Dale announced happily as he looked at his younger cousin, "No time for getting' lippy."

"Didja get him," Dale's little brother, William Hatfield, asked with a curious glint in his eyes. At the gentle age of sixteen, he had been the more pacifist relation within the house. He was never one to kill an animal or a man, no matter what unforgivable slight a man had made against him or his family. He was considered the coward of the family by most of the Hatfield family, including Jack. Off his horse, William Hatfield stood just a few inches shorter than his little brother and was as scrawny as a newborn foal. He was the striking image of his older brother in every way except for lacking the valiant character that made up the rest of the Hatfield clan.

Jack smiled brightly at her younger cousin's question and replied with a shrug and asked with a dark smirk that was riddled with mischievous intentions, "What kind of question is that?"

A look of slight sadness painted William's face at her confession to murder. He quickly looked away from her and back toward the direction where the Hatfield clan lived in large log cabins.

"William is a soft touch," Jack whispered to Schultz as she lightly kicked Black Jack forward and toward her home.

"Ah," he answered as he followed behind her sashaying horse and asked out of ear shot from the others, "And what of you other relatives?"

"Dale and William are brothers," she informed him as they rode together toward her childhood home, she chuckled as she added, "This one time when we were little, there was this fox that kept getting into the chicken coops and William wouldn't let anyone kill it."

Schultz smiled at her tale as he listened to her continue on with her history, "Dale and I caught the fox in a little homemade trap and we took it over the river. It was never seen again after that."

"Well that was nice of you two," Schultz informed her, but he saw a wicked glint in her eyes as if she were hiding some heavy secret inside her.

Jack chuckled at his answer and quickly turned to look behind her quickly at her two cousins and whispered with a wicked smile, "What William doesn't know is that Dale and I shot that fox after we got over the river."

Schultz smile faded quickly at her confession. Jack Hatfield was no angel, nor was she the devil. She was not bound to be morally right or inherently evil, but for some reason his mind wanted her to be this person that stuck to moral beliefs, even though he knew that she was the reality of the times that they lived in. To him, she wasn't a liar; there was nothing false about her, nothing wrong with her in the least. She was the truth, she was the life, she was the reality of this time and she was both harsh and tender. She was some great mixture of a spirit that would make its mark on a time mixed into a body that would parish under the ground after the spirit had escaped its shackles.

To him, like he had thought countless times when he was near her, she was a tangible spirit of this harsh reality. He had built her up, in his mind, as a person with mismatched fragments that came to a strange reality. He had concluded that Jacqueline was a paradox of reality, in his mind; she could be comparable to the late president Andrew Jackson. She was looked at as one way, but was completely different. She was harsh, but was tender. She was a real person, with real thoughts, rather than someone that he passed by and never gave a second thought of. She was a human that shared space with him, had educated thoughts on issues, and cared for things even if that object of caring was seen as wrong, like her caring for Bali, Django, and even himself, the man that had sworn to bring her in for money.

He pulled his attentions away from the woman that had entrapped his musings and gazed at the scenery around him. Tall oak trees that grabbed toward the heavens surrounded them as they entered a large clearing where log cabins with long covered porches stood tall, shielding the female family members from the sun that pounded down on the earth. Men and young children made their way passed them, each one giving a look of concern at Django upon his nag. Chickens pecked at the ground as two dark skinned black women threw feed to them. One a pretty young black woman with no signs of wrinkles upon her slim face, she was most likely the house maid of the Hatfield clan based upon her looks. The other was an older, dark skinned woman that could pass by as P.T Barnum's Joice Heth, the 161 year old black nurse of Mister George Washington himself.

As they rode past an old oak tree, a man limped toward them with a large pipe in his mouth and an angered emotion painted his face, a look that seemed to have been stitched into his face from the very day he had popped out of his mother so long ago. His greying beard was beginning to stain from years of tobacco usage as he met the small group in front of the old oak tree.

They quickly dismounted as the man and several young men hurried toward them. Django looked over to see Jack closing her eyes and taking a deep breath as if she had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar and had to find a viable explanation as to why she had tried to steal the sweets.

"Shit," she hissed under her voice as she heard the man billow out in anger curses toward her.

"You get that no account, backstabbin' bitch outta here," the man hissed at Wahl Hatfield.

"No David," Wahl announced in a thick accent as he held out his hands in order to calm his brother down, "You ain't got no right to be talkin' about your daughter like that. She did what any of us woulda done."

David hurried passed Wahl and ripped a whip out of Dale's saddle. He hurried toward Jack, who bravely stood her ground as her angered father made his way toward her, readying to beat her within an inch of her life.

"You embarrassed this family for the last time girl," he hissed as he raised the whip high above his head as rage filled his eyes.

"Stop right there," Schultz announced as he quickly placed himself in front of Jack. He pushed her further behind him, shielding her from her father's harsh gaze. His pistol was already drawn as he stood in front of her; no other family member dared raise their gun at him, knowing fully well just how fast Jack really was. They didn't want to chance her wrath.

"We'll have none of that," Schultz announced in his thick accent, "She is still my prisoner-"

"She's my daughter," David informed him quickly as he glared at the bounty hunter who had defiantly jumped in front of Jack as if he were her prince in an old, rumpled grey suit.

"That's just details," Schulz informed him, "I caught her fair and square and she is still under my protection until I give her over to the authorities," he chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, "of course, unless there is a better bid for her head, but until then it is my lawful duty to make sure that she is safe."

Jack smiled softly from behind him as she watched her father lower the whip. Her heart beat slowed dramatically as she watched Schultz quickly placed his small pistol away.

"Daddy," she whispered as she placed her hand upon Schultz's shoulder and moved toward her father slowly, "I didn't mean to offend the family. When I heard that my sister left," she shook her head, "I couldn't just allow that to happen to her and go unpunished."

David glared at her for a long while. Ocean blue eyes glared into ocean blue eyes as their harsh gaze never faltered. The air was thick between the two as they looked at each other. David's eyes were dark and wise, they were the eyes of a man that had spent his life chopping down trees and working every day until his back threatened to give way just for his family to live decently. Jack's eyes were dark and intense; they were the eyes of a woman that had been raised by a man that took raising children as products of himself; her eyes held a flicker of pleading in her eyes as she looked upon her father.

Django looked over to the two women standing with the chickens pecking around them. He could see the look of worry on their face as they stared at the leader of the Hatfield clan. He quickly turned his attentions back upon Schultz who was staring with worry clearly on his face. Tension was noticeable upon the German's shoulders as he watched the woman that he had become close to speak with a man that had threated to whip her with a horse whip.

"Did you kill him," David asked after the uncomfortable silence.

A quick, dark smile crawled over features as she nodded and replied happily, "I shot him dead. Shot his brother, for coming after him."

"They're after her," Wahl informed his brother, "I had to kill Bobby McCoy."

"God damn those McCoys," David hissed in anger as he shook his head and then looked back at his young daughter, a girl that had grown into the spitting image of her mother.

"I didn't mean to leave before," she stopped and turned to look at Schultz quickly before continuing," I didn't mean to embarrass you like I did…but I just couldn't do that. Please understand, it wasn't a slight against you. Please tell me you forgive me, Daddy."

David placed his lit pipe into his mouth and looked over to Wahl for slight guidance on what he should do with his daughter. He had never had a child disobey him in such away, even if it was a heroic deed, she still went against what he had said and placed the family in disgrace within all of Mississippi. He was unsure of how to behave around her.

"Go help your momma with dinner," Wahl informed her as he placed his hands upon his hips.

Jack turned to look at her uncle and then back to her father.

"This is Dr. King Schultz," she announced, "and Django Freeman."

"Did you just hear what your uncle told you," David asked harshly as he glared down at his daughter.

"Yes sir," Jack whispered as she lowered her eyes and turned quickly away from her family and hurried into her old home where her mother stood at the window plucking the feathers off of dead chickens. The two black women followed her quickly into the kitchen to attend what needs that she may have needed.

"Momma," Jack announced as she slowly walked up behind her mother, Molly, who's once long black hair was now greying atop her head.

Her mother quickly turned around with a large smile painted upon her red lips. She quickly wiped her hands upon her apron and hurried toward her with arms held open to embrace her into a tight hug that had been long overdue.

"Wahl actually did it," she cried as she held her daughter close to her, "He actually did it," she rubbed Jack's shoulders as she pulled away and looked her over, "I prayed every night for God to protect you and turns out," tears escaped freely from her eyes, "He was listenin'."

"I'm home Momma," Jack whispered as she gave her a soft smile and wiped her tears away.

"Who's dat man witcha," the young black woman asked as she made her way toward the counter where Molly had been plucking feathers.

"Man? What man," Molly asked as she looked down at her young daughter, whose eyes sparkled with happiness.

"His name is Dr. King Schultz," Jack answered obediently with a large smile as she watched her mother look down at her with confusion on her face.

"A doctor," her mother asked quickly as she looked over her daughter's slim body, "Are you hurt?"

"He's a dentist," Jack answered honestly, keeping the information of Schultz being a bounty hunter a secret. It would be too much on her mother's heart to know that her oldest daughter had become a wanted outlaw that spent time playing cards in a sinful saloon.

"Jackie," a small, almost pipsqueak like voice announced from behind her. Jack turned quickly to look behind her to see her young sister standing behind her in long pigtailed braids and a bright, happy smile pasted upon her face.

"Helena," Jack announced as she hurried to her youngest sister and smiled as she wrapped her arms around her tightly.

Helena was a chunky twelve year old that was just beginning to blossom into a woman. She was awkward in appearance, but time would soon change her looks into that of a beautiful woman, just as it had done with Jack when she was the same age long ago.

"Daddy is lettin' them men stay with us," Helena informed her, "That man in the beard-"

"King," she informed her little sister.

"Oh we're on a first name basis with this dentist are we," Molly asked as she entered the small living room with her two daughters. A look of interest spread across her face as she looked at her oldest daughter and awaited the answer.

"Yes, we are."

"Did he," Helena asked shyly, "Did he seduce you?"

"Helena," Molly announced loudly, "You get out there to your room and make a place for your sister to sleep. This Dr. King Schultz will take her bedroom," she watched as Helena hurried to do as she said, she then turned her attentions to the old black woman and demanded, "Tell John to clean out a place in the barn for that Negro to stay in for the night. There's an old straw mat out there for him to sleep on and the roof is solid. He should be comfortable out there."

"Yasm," the old woman announced as she scurried out of the house and out into the bright outdoors to deliver the message to the only black man on the property.

"Thank you Momma," Jack whispered with a smile as she walked toward the door and leaned against it with a far off dreamy look in her eye as she watched Schultz, Wahl, and her father talk as if they had been longtime friends.

Her mother slowly walked behind her and studied her soft face as Jack looked over at Schultz with wondering eyes.

"Has he seduced you," Molly asked softly as she placed her hands around her daughter.

Jack ripped her eyes away from Schultz begrudgingly and looked at her smiling mother who had the softest features that she had ever seen in her life and opal eyes that put everyone's to shame in her opinion.

"No," Jack whispered, "He's a decent gentleman."

Molly smiled as she looked at her young daughter, reading her features as if she were a picture book.

"But you want him to," Molly asked and smiled as a look of shame appeared on her daughter's face. She chuckled and pulled her daughter into her arms, "There's nothin' wrong with that. I wanted your father to do the same thing with me when we first met."

"I just," Jack started but stopped quickly, "I don't know what to think or feel about this."

Schultz silently made his way toward them with a smile upon his face. He carried his own bags in his hands as William, who had been enthralled by Fritz's tricks, took his horse and Django toward the barn. He smiled as he watched the mother and daughter embrace.

"Do you love him," he heard the older woman ask of Jack and his heart stopped beating in that moment as he stepped upon the steps of the log house.

He watched as Jack pulled away from her mother and looked over to Schultz with a look of pure horror on her face. It seemed as if all the color in her face bled away as she lowered her eyes and hurried away from him, going after William and Django.

He watched as she hurried away, leaving him alone with her mother. He smiled weakly and turned to the smiling mother and pulled his hat off out of respect as he bowed his head slightly to her.

"Mrs. Hatfield," he announced happily, "I am Dr. King Schultz. I've come to an understanding that I am to stay in your house tonight?"

She smiled at him as she looked him over with a judgmental eye, but found that she was pleased with what she had taken in.

"Yes," she answered, "My youngest daughter, Helena, is cleaning out Jack's room. That's where you'll be staying."

* * *

**So more or less, a filler chapter, but it has the point of introducing you to a few of her family members. More will be introduced next chapter. Jack has been hiding something from Schultz if you've paid attention to the dialogue (I am way into dialogue as clues as to what will happen people) **

**So what do you think about her family? Especially her father and Wahl? I actually really like Wahl. What are your opinions?**

**Review and tell me :)**


	16. Under the Old Oak Tree

**Chapter 16: Under the Old Oak Tree**

King Schultz walked alone around the large Hatfield owned land. Log houses darted across the countryside where other Hatfield family members lived well off inside the sturdy logs that had been taken from the hills that surrounded them and shielded them from the blistering cold and the snow that riddled the mountainous terrain.

He took in the place where Jack had been raised, he had observed her family and had learned that she and Wahl Hatfield had been the more cultured that laid claim to the Hatfield surname. That was not to say that the other Hatfield family members were stupid, but they did not hold the same intellectual qualities that Wahl and Jack possessed.

The words that Jack's beautiful mother had uttered earlier tumbled throughout his forever moving mind. It was a simple question that she had asked, a question that could have been answered with a simple answer, but it held so much power. The two of them had travelled great distances together, they had spent many a nights talking about their lives and opinions, and something had changed in the course of their acquaintance with each other. Some small feeling had been turned on; it was more than curiosity and more than just simple lust.

"Who in Hell is that," a cranky voice that belonged to an elderly woman hissed in anger. Schultz turned to see that he had absently walked in front of someone's porch. An elderly lady, around the remarkable age of seventy, sat in a beautifully carved wooden rocking chair with a beautiful snow white blanket placed over her shoulders to keep the winter chill from invading her wrinkled, old body.

"Momma," the voice of David said sternly as he looked down at his aging mother, "Now that's Dr. King Schultz."

"Who hell is he," she asked staring down at Schultz who slowly approached the porch and walked up the stairs to join the small clan. He smiled as he looked at the elderly woman sitting in her rocking chair as if she were a queen being waited on hand and foot by her relatives. Behind her wrinkles, he could still see the sharp features and the laugh lines that made up the woman's face from a long eventful life. Her eyes momentarily captivated him for a moment, her eyes were as blue as the darkest ocean; the same shade of blue that he had only seen in Jack's eyes.

"Momma," David said as he gave the dentist a small smile, "He is the one that helped bring Jackie back home."

"Oh," she stated happily extending her pale, frail white hand toward Schultz and smiled as he quickly took her hand and held it warmly in his, she gave him a soft squeeze as she added, "You're a good man for my little Jackie."

Schultz chuckled at the old woman's sweet words; her voice was like aged saccharine, as she continued to praise her granddaughter. He couldn't help but smile at the woman's words as she held on to his hand.

"Well," he announced with a slight bow of his head, "It really was no trouble. May I say, Mrs. Hatfield, your granddaughter is a delightful conversationalist."

"She gets that from her grandpapa," she informed him with a smile, "That man could talk you to death about all sorts of hair brain schemes. One time he wanted to start a circus like that man, he thought he could purchase himself a ticket 'cross seas and bring back one of those mammoths."

"Momma," David whispered as he looked down at his old mother and smiled in slight embarrassment just as the young black slave, Shana, came over toward them.

"Here ya go," Shana announced as she handed the elderly woman a flask of whiskey to chase away the aches that riddled the woman's arthritic bones. Mrs. Hatfield quickly pulled it from the woman's hands and downed a big swig without making any faces as the burning liquor moved passed her tongue and down her throat to settle into her stomach, to say the least, Schultz saw so much of Jack in this elderly woman. He knew exactly who the woman that he had been acquainted with took after in this family.

"Mr. Hatfield," Schultz started to say, but was quickly interrupted by the elderly woman.

"Now Davie," she said softly as she placed her arthritic hand on her son's hard overworked hand while Schultz stood there patiently, "Have you talked to Jacqueline yet?"

"Momma, we ain't gonna talk 'bout this in front of strangers," David informed her quickly.

"Don't you sass me boy," she hissed, flames of anger burned in her dark blue eyes, "Now why can't you just go down and talk to your daughter? You two are both the most stubbornest damned jackasses I've ever had the misfortune to know."

Schultz smiled at the woman's sharp tongue.

"Go talk to her," she demanded of her son.

"Dammit Momma," David started but he stopped quickly as his mother's bitter eyes glared up at him, he shook his head and continued in a more subdued tone, "I don't know how to talk to her."

"Just like you talkin' to me," she informed him quickly, "Jesus ain't likin' that you ain't talkin' to your own blood, Davie. She only did what she thought was right."

"But Momma-"

"No buts," she reprimanded, "You go talk to your daughter."

Schultz smiled softly as he watched the middle aged man nod at his mother's demand as if he were a young child still.

"Have any of you happen to see Django," Schultz asked finally as he watched David place his brown hat upon his thick head of hair.

"Uh, yeah," David said as he turned to look at Shana, "Didn't he go off with John?"

"Yes sir," she answered with a deep Southern drawl, "He's out in them hills helpin' bring in a load a logs."

"Thank you," Schultz announced with a smile.

"Shana will accompany you," David informed him with a smile as he turned to Shana, "You go on and help the good doctor."

"But what about dinner for Mrs. Hatfield," Shana asked as she looked down at the tiring old woman.

"Don't worry 'bout that," he replied with a smile as he waved for her to walk off the porch, "Molly and Mamie will take care of that, you just go on and take Dr. Schultz to young Django."

"Yes sir," she answered obediently and sashayed down the stairs with a large smile on her face as she passed by the German bounty hunter, "This way Dr. Schultz."

He bid his farewells to the fussy grandmother and the hospitable man that was shaking his head as he thought of ways to tell his daughter that he had forgiven her from running astray and hurried after the beautiful dark skinned woman.

"Yer slave is probably with John," Shana informed Schultz in a thick Southern accent as she sashayed across the grounds, "They have to get the logs in before the night time, before the rains come in and make it all slippery."

"Django isn't my slave," Schultz corrected her, "I freed him from a chain gang in Texas."

"Really," she asked with a smile, her eyes sparkled at his words, "That's mighty fine of ya Dr. Schultz. Mr. Hatfield did the same thing for Mamie, John, and me. He bought us out of Mississippi and brought us back here-"

Schultz's head shot up and took her in as he shook his head in disbelief, "Are you telling me that you are a free woman?"

Shana smiled at his sparkling eyes and nodded happily as she said, "Yes sir. Missy Jack taught me how to read. We grew up together. We gots into all kinds a trouble when we was growin' up. If Mrs. Hatfield didn't get us then Mamie did. This one time-"

"You're not a slave," he asked once again with the same shock. Jack Hatfield wasn't everything that he had thought.

"Well, we gots to pretend that we are," Shana explained, "Folks ain't too keen on us runnin' the streets wild. They thinks we gonna start a riot and kill those white folks in the big houses. So Mr. Hatfield told us to lie, but you seem to be on Missy Jack's good side so I don't have to watch my mouth 'round you."

He shook his head as he continued to follow her up the hills. Toppled trees were being tied by hard metal chains up to the backs of hard muscled mules to pull them forward. He watched as many of the Hatfield family members worked hard, the rancid smell of dirt and sweat filled the air around him as he stopped in front of Django who was helping wrap a chain around a thick fallen tree.

Django smiled at him as he pushed away from the tree as the mule moved forward.

"They said I can have all the blankets I want if I came out and helped them with these few trees," he informed him with a smile, "And they even payin' me for the time."

Schultz chuckled as he looked at the man that he had freed who was beaming at him with sweat dripping down his face.

"That's very good. Very good," he said happily as he nodded to John and Shana who took the hint and walked away from them, giving them the proper amount of space to talk freely and openly without the worry of eavesdroppers.

"I have a little problem," Schultz admitted as he pulled Django away from the work area.

"What," he asked quickly, "Can we not stay here? These folks awfully nice-"

"No, no, no," Schultz stated quickly as he waved his hands in front of him in hopes of calming the young man down, "It's nothing like that. It's Jack."

"Oh," Django stated simply, and then a large Cheshire Cat like grin crawled across his face as he looked over to Schultz, "What about her?"

Schultz shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the dirt as he tried to find the right words to say to his longtime confidant. His fingers moved across his beard and a slight frown crept across his face as he pondered how he felt about her.

"Her mother," Schultz whispered, "asked her something today."

"Yeah, if she in love with you," Django answered with a smile, "I heard it."

"Right," he said as a smile crept across his face, "And she didn't say anything."

"Yeah, I sawed that," he answered, "And now it's got you thinkin' 'bout what you think 'bout her?"

"In a manner of speaking," he answered in a matter of fact tone and nodded his head.

Django smiled at the bounty hunter that had given him his freedom and gave him a job through the winter. He knew exactly what emotions were running through the German. Doubt, confusion, angst, he knew those emotions all too well.

"Can I ask you somethin'," Django asked.

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Do you find yourself thinkin' 'bout her even when she ain't around," Django asked, "When I first met my wife, she was all I could ever think about, all day and all night. No one could come close to her beauty."

Schultz smiled softly at his friend and nodded as he patted him on the back, now finally sure of what he thought about Jack.

"Thank you Django," he informed him, "You have given me the answer that I needed to find. I do think that I-"

"You must be the dentist that brought Jack back to us," the bitter voice of a man asked from above them.

Schultz turned around and gazed up at a blonde haired man that sat upon a Palomino horse that held the same golden color coat as the rider's hair. His eyes were a light shade of opal, just as many of the other Hatfield's possessed, along with the same sharp features, but his demeanor and hair were altogether different than any of the other members that they had met.

"Yes," he announced with a calm chuckle, "I am Dr. King Schultz. And who might you be?"

"Name's Cotton Hatfield," the man said as he spit tobacco juice to the ground, spittle fell absently down his chin which he quickly wiped it away with the sleeve of his flannel shirt, "So word through the grapevine is that you have rights over my cousin. That true?"

Cotton's eyes glared down at Schultz awaiting the answer.

"Yes," Schultz answered as he eyed the man, that wasn't much older than Jack, up and down, "She's under my legal protection."

"You ain't gonna take her away from me or this place," Cotton informed him, "She's mine."

"Cotton," the harsh voice of Jack hissed from behind them, "I ain't ever gonna be yours so you might as well get off your high horse right now."

Schultz turned around quickly to see Jack standing with her hands placed upon her hips as she glared up at Cotton with a dark anger in her eyes.

"Jack, I…I," he stuttered as he tried to regain his composure as he looked down at Schultz and her, "I didn't mean nothin' by it. I know you don't wanna be married to me," he chuckled, "Hell that's why I married Suzanna just on 'count you chose-"

A scream echoed throughout the air around them. Jack and Schultz watched as two men rode quickly up to the houses with a body hanging on to the back of the saddle.

"Oh God," Schultz heard Jack cry as he watched her grab the ends of her old skirts and hurried toward the men on the horses. He watched as the men of the family quickly surrounded the two newcomers. His feed moved on their own accord after the woman that he felt these strange indescribable feelings for.

Schultz watched as David and Jack looked with grief in their eyes at the body that was now placed on the ground in front of them. The body had been severely beaten with several knife wounds etched through the unfortunate man's abdomen; blood stained the already stained white shirt that he had worn before his bloody demise.

"What happened," David demanded as he looked up to the two men, one was his son Robert and the other was his sister's bastard son Peter, that had brought the body of his uncle in.

"Gus was talkin' shit at the bar," Robert, the oldest of the Hatfield batch, exclaimed as he looked up to his father. He bowed his hat slightly in acknowledgement of his little sister's returned presence.

"Two of them McCoy bastards got to him," Peter informed him with a slight stutter that he had suffered with from his childhood, "They got him while he was stumblin' out the bar."

"And you let him leave all alone," Jack hissed in anger as she glared down at Gus, the man that had once been her sourly, old, drunken great uncle on her father's side.

Schultz watched as her dark eyes snapped back at Peter and Robert with what could have been mistaken as murderous intent in her eyes.

"Don't worry Sister," Robert announced, "We took care of one of 'em."

"What," David asked harshly as he glared at his son with the same dark intent that filled Jack's dark blue eyes.

"We hung the smallest in the old oak tree for all them god damned McCoys to see," Robert stated with a smile as he looked around at his surrounding family and the one stranger to the Hatfield lands.

"Can someone please explain to me why most of my children are all god damned stupid," David announced, clearly fed up with his children's shenanigans in the past few years.

Jack turned in anger and pushed passed her family members; she whistled a tune and the sound of hooves upon the ground thundered around them.

Schultz quickly wrapped his long fingers around her upper arm and stopped her as he asked with worry clearly in his words, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied harshly as she jerked away from him and then looked to her father, "I'm gonna go cut him down. It's just an invitation for the McCoys to come in here and slaughter us all."

She pulled herself atop Black Jack and glared down at Robert.

"You did something very stupid today Robert," she hissed at him.

Schultz looked over to Robert who now had a look of complete confusion upon his face as he gazed up at his enraged little sister.

"What's wrong Sister," he asked, "It's not like I've started a war or nothin'. They did this first. I'm just settlin' the score."

"They don't see it that way," she hissed as anger radiated throughout her body, "They want an all-out war. They won't stop until every last one of us is gone."

Robert looked around at each family member and a look of sad confusion painted his face. He looked over to his father and shook his head.

"I didn't know it was that serious," he stated honestly.

David shook his head as he placed his pipe in his mouth and looked over to Jack and ordered, "Go help your sister get the body down. She's right."

"Yes sir," he stated as he hurried to climb into his saddle.

Schultz looked up at Jack and shook his head, "I'm going with you."

She glared down at him and stated harshly, "Then get on your horse. We aren't waitin'."

...

As they rode up the large hills, Schultz found himself staring more and more at Jack. They had rode in somewhat silence, Robert being the only one talking of the previous incident, which had given him more time to ponder the feelings that he had just started to realize had been inside him from the first day that he had laid eyes on Mad Jack Hatfield, the notorious outlaw that had evaded authorities for a long while.

He took in her features carefully, he took in every line that edged her pale face, lines that revealed how hard her life had been alone in Texas and how many times she had smiled throughout her life. There were slight imperfections in her skin, but it seemed to only strengthen her beautiful character profile in his eyes. He had always seen her as a very pretty woman, but he had found her thoughts more beautiful. Her character was what brought him closer to her, they were so different yet exactly the same. They both had morals that they tried to cling to in a world that was not morally sound. He had killed men for profit; she had killed men for survival. He was no better than her; they were the same in how they survived.

"Jacqueline," he stated softly, his voice was almost a purr as he said her full name, rather than her short nickname.

"What is it," she asked quickly, her eyes hurriedly moved toward him to give him her full attention. He could see the slight fear that bubbled beneath her dark orbs.

"I have something to ask you," he informed her as they moved up the slightly rocky hill. Fritz swatted a horse fly with his long tail as he moved forward.

"Shoot," she said with a soft smile as she looked forward at her older brother.

"Who's Cotton," he asked, silently chastising himself for not bringing up the conversation that he intended to, the conversation that would allow him to find out if he could reveal to her the feelings that he had recently discovered for her.

She rolled her eyes in slight annoyance and replied honestly, "My ignorant cousin. His daddy wanted me to marry him, but my daddy wanted me to be with-"

"There he is," Robert announced loudly, interrupting her as he pointed up to a large round oak tree in the distance where a man hung by his neck from a high limb.

"Why did you hang him so high," she asked as she looked to her older brother.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug of his shoulder, "Thought it fittin' to hang him high."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Schultz who was looking at her with eyes that were brightened with interest, with the need to know more about her. She felt a strange bubble inside her chest as she looked at him, the man that had protected her for so long. He hadn't murdered her for money, he had spared her life. As she looked at him, she felt an intense pain in her heart that forced her to quickly turn away from him and look forward.

"Needless to say," she continued casually as if she hadn't felt a strange pang inside of her just from looking at the German bounty hunter that rode beside her, "Cotton wasn't happy about my decision to not marry him."

"Cotton was named appropriately," Robert announced from ahead of them, "He ain't got nothin' but cotton between those big ears of his."

She smiled at her brother's comments and then forced herself to look back at Schultz and replied, "See, no one likes him. Not even his own family."

"Here we go Sister," Robert announced as he pulled himself off of his horse and walked underneath the hanging body.

"Cut him down," she demanded harshly of her brother, "I need to see his face."

"Why do you need to see his face," Robert asked as he raised a brow in confusion at his younger sister, "This ain't what ladies supposed to be wantin' to do."

"Well when I see a lady, I will inform her just that," she answered bitterly, "Now cut him down. I need to see if I know this man."

Schultz smiled at her heated reply. That was the fire that he had become accustomed to see in her. He had never been one to give any attentions to common women, the ones that were fine with living in one place and baring his children. He had always been partial to traveling. He was a free spirit in some aspects of his life and he had seen that spirit nestled inside of Jack Hatfield's body; they were on the same road in the grand scheme of things.

A loud jerk from the old oak tree sounded throughout the air around them. Crows flew from their waiting perches and into the air, cawing in agitation from the interruption of their new meal. The boy fell with a loud thud in front of Jack and Schultz, the man's back looked up at them. Dirt stained the McCoy's heavy brown coat from the long winter in the mountains laying on the hard ground.

Schultz watched as Jack pushed the man over with her heeled boots. He watched a look of disgust as she looked at the bruised and bloody face of the man that looked up at them with dead eyes.

"Well," Schultz asked as he watched her take in the dead man on the ground, "do you know him."

"I do not know this McCoy," she informed him and looked over to her brother and asked, "You sure he is a McCoy?"

"I'm pretty sure," he answered, "He was rantin' and ravin' about how he and Boyd McCoy were gonna take and skin every Hatfield they come across. They ain't too bright," he chuckled, "They didn't even know that the bar was ran by Aunt Becky."

She looked back at the body and then to Schultz. She could sense some needed urgency to be alone with him bubbling inside of her. She looked back to her brother and quickly walked toward him with a plan in her mind to get rid of him.

"Take this body-"

"What," Robert asked, "I ain't takin' his body into the yard for all them lil girls to see. Their eyes don't need to be lookin' at no damned dirty McCoy boy."

She glared at him in anger at his rude interruption and pointed to the body and demanded, "You put a god damned rope around that body, get on your god damned horse, and you drag this damned corpse off this property. We may be lucky in that they haven't noticed that this man has gone missin'."

Schultz lifted his brow at the demands that Jack was making. He had seen glimpses of her demanding side before, but he had never once thought that she had the bravery to stand up to a brother or to her father like she had obviously did many times in the past.

"Slave driver," he heard Robert whisper as he hurried passed him to do as he was told by his younger sister.

He couldn't help but allow the chuckle to escape him as he watched the eldest Hatfield son scurry to pull the body away.

"I'm takin' him down to the river," Robert announced as he tied the end of the rope around his saddle horn and climbed atop his horse.

"Peachy," she informed him with a fake smile as she watched him walk away, leaving her and Schultz alone in an awkward yet comfortable silence.

He slowly closed the space between them as he walked toward her to stand under the old oak tree with her. He watched as soft smile cross her face as the crows quickly took their places back upon the large, thick limbs of the tree. Their feathers bustled above them to lessen the silence between them.

A soft, sweet chuckle escaped her as he watched her long pale fingers lightly touch the bark of the tree.

"This oak tree," she said softly, "has always been a favorite meeting place. We used to try to climb up it, damned near broke my arm trying to get up it…" she rolled her eyes, "Never could get up this damned thing. Robert and Peter would shoot squirrels out of this thing during the winter months and timber wasn't doin' so well. This is where Daddy caught me teaching Shana how to read," a soft blush crawled up her pale cheeks as she edged closer to Schultz and placed her hands upon the lapels of his grey jacket, "I got my first kiss under this old oak tree too."

She leaned in softly and allowed her lips to softly caress his lips. It was a soft simple kiss, but nevertheless, it was a meaningful one, just as all their previous kisses had been.

Schultz grabbed her wrists softly in his own hands as he slowly pulled away from her. He looked into her eyes and smiled at her.

"What," she asked with a soft smile as a cool wind blew against them, causing a chill to move down her body.

"I overheard what your mother asked you," he informed her, and he shrugged his shoulders as he forced an unconcerned smile upon his lips, "It's not like I was eavesdropping or anything."

She closed her eyes and looked down as she shook her head and replied, "I thought you heard that. I was hoping to avoid-"

"Hey," he said as he placed his finger under her chin and lifted her head up for her to look up at him. She smiled at him and he felt a sudden and quick pang in his heart, like someone had stabbed him and quickly ripped the knife out.

"You aren't my captured bounty anymore. You remember that don't you," he asked.

"I never forgot that," she whispered, "I owe you so much for everything that you and Django have done for me."

He smiled at her and shrugged his shoulder and said with a chuckle, "In the words of our dear young friend Django Freeman, there ain't nothin' wrong with bein' associated with a," he stopped trying to get the mocked accent down perfectly, "peeertaaaayy woman."

A red hot blush came over her face and she looked away from him and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not that pretty."

"Psh," he announced with an almost excited tone as he waved her absurd words away, "Of course you are and you know it. Look," he said, grabbing her hand, "I've traveled across an entire ocean and have never come across a woman that is as pretty and as interesting as you, Miss Jacqueline Hatfield, or also known better as Mad Jack Hatfield."

She chuckled at his words as she looked into his brown eyes that reminded her of the delicious chocolate that she had tasted on only a few occasions when she would travel with Wahl into town. A stiff silence entered between them as they looked into each other's eyes and he held her hands warmly in his.

"I wanted to tell you that I want," he stopped quickly, "that I need you to come with us. It wouldn't be the same without you."

She shook her head at his words, confusion moved into her as she asked, "What are you saying King?"

He shook his head and smiled as he said, "Boy you are not making this easy, are you?"

She lifted a brow at his strange question.

"I," he stopped again, "I have these," he shook his head and finally revealed, "I can't go a day without thinking of you, Jacqueline. There isn't one minute since the day that I first saw you in that bath house in Texas that my mind hasn't succumbed to thoughts of you."

Her mouth slightly dropped at his sudden revelation. She shook her head; words were not forming in her brain. She wanted to do something, say something, but her body refused to move or speak. Her chest fluttered.

"And I need to know if you have these same thoughts," he replied, "I need to know now that I am not putting my life and that of young Django's in danger for something that isn't real."

"I," she started to say as she hurriedly made her way to close the space between the two of them, her heart was beating quickly as her brain worked quickly to find the answer that she needed to say.

"Jack," a loud yell came from below the hill where Helena stood with her arms on her hips, "Jack! You promised to help me with dinner tonight! I can't do it all by myself and Momma went out to help Mamie make that man's bed in the barn!"

"King, I," she started to explain as she looked away from her young sister and back to the man that had just told her that he needed her.

"Go," he whispered as he placed a soft kiss upon her forehead and softly pushed her forward, "We can talk later."

She shook her head as if to tell him that she wanted to stay and talk now.

"Jack," Helena screamed in impatience.

"King," she whispered.

"It's fine," he said with a shrug as he absently played with the fringes of his mustache, "Go help your sister. I'm not going anywhere too soon."

"Well," she said, looking him over, still not sure what to do, "Okay."

Schultz bowed his head slightly to her as she slowly turned away from him and walked down the hill. He could see how she wanted to say and that told him everything that he needed to know.

That was becoming something that he had found increasingly odd in himself. He had found himself needing people in his life, whether it was Django or Jack. He had never needed anyone but himself and a good rifle. It was safe to say that it seemed his life had changed for the best with this new found need in his life.

* * *

**So there you have it. Schultz was the first to admit his feelings. It was really, really hard to find a believable way for him to do that. Notice that there was never ever a mention of the word love. I just don't think it fits his or Jack's personality to say that to each other.**

**This chapter took 3 days to write! It was going to be so much longer but who wants to read a 10,000 word chapter right?**

**I hope you really like this chapter. Tell me what you think please :)**


	17. Lookin' For Freedom

**Chapter 17: Lookin' For Freedom**

**Long chapter here, also this may have a higher rating than T, I'm not sure, so just read with knowing that piece of info, but I'm sure that you will enjoy most of it.**

* * *

Ellis, Matthew, and Paul McCoy sat at the fringes of the group. They were the youngest of the McCoy family gang and the most high strung. They could hear Boyd billowing in anger about the loss of one of their cousins, a man that had been the best long rifle sniper that they had in the gang.

"Old Boyd ain't nothin' but talk," Ellis said in a hushed voice. At the age of eighteen, he was the oldest of the small group. He stood a solid six foot with a lanky body that in the right wind conditions could have been blown away like a shaky leaf in the wind. Shaggy, sandy brown hair grew curly and stopped just below his ears. He wore a hat upon his head to keep the wild curls under control, but it did little to help the curls that wrapped around his ears.

"We gotta go back and take revenge on what that Hatfield done did to our cousin," he added as he pulled his pistol close to him.

"We can bring in that Hatfield girl that killed our family," Matthew hissed in agreement with his older brother. At the tender age of sixteen, he had been known as one of the more handsome of McCoy boys with the darkest hair and the lightest green eyes that could entrap any woman with a soft heart. He had found it easy to push women away; he smiled at the thought of how many women he had pushed away since they had started chasing after Jack Hatfield. He wouldn't sacrifice the most beautiful woman that he had waiting at home for him, waiting patiently for him to ask for her hand in marriage, for a little wild ride on the side.

"I don't know," Paul, the youngest of the brothers, stated, "Boyd made it clear that he didn't want none of us to be goin' out provokin' the Hatfields anymore. He made it clear that he wants to wait."

"We ain't waitin' no more," Ellis hissed at his chubby fourteen year old brother that he should have left at home with momma instead of bringing him out into the wild world.

"So what you want to do," Matthew asked, his eyes quickly looked over to Boyd who was chugging whiskey out of a dark flask.

"When it gets dark," Ellis whispered as he waved for his brother's to lean in closer, "we are goin' to go down there and do what we did to them natives like back in Texas. We gonna kill 'em all."

"I don't think this is right," Paul whispered and shook his head, "This ain't right. This wouldn't have happened if that young girl never got raped and murdered."

"You know that lil Hatfield girl was beggin' for it," Ellis replied quickly, "Hell, she probably pulled a gun on him first and he was jus' protectin' himself. She's probably just like Mad Jack."

"Listen here little brother," Matthew whispered as he placed fresh bullets into his gun, "We gonna kill 'em all."

"There won't be a Hatfield left standin'," Ellis informed them with a harsh smile. "We'll leave once Boyd passes out and Tommy goes off to sleep."

...

Sweat poured in beads down Jack's forehead as she shoveled the horse manure out of the barn. She could hear Black Jack's soft hum of excitement as she moved by his stable. He looked up at her with beautiful brown eyes, eyes that looked back at her with great intelligence.

"You picked you out one fine horse Jack," Wahl's voice announced softly from behind her. She turned slowly to see her uncle walking toward her with a soft smile on his features as he moved to pet Black Jack who obliged him the indulgence.

"I've always thought so," she informed him, "Your Altivo is a mighty fine creature as well."

"I think we have to thank Lady for birthing the most intelligent creatures that this state has ever seen," he informed his young niece with a chuckle.

"So what's all this about," he asked as he watched Jack continue on with shoveling the remaining manure out of the empty stalls, "I don't remember you bein' this motivated to shovelin' horse shit. In fact," he chuckled as he watched her wipe the sweat from her forehead with the crook of her arm, "I don't ever remember you shovelin' horse shit."

"Well, Daddy needs it done and all the boys are off doing somethin' else," she informed him, "and all Momma wants to talk about is King and my previous engagement."

"That's somethin' that you and I need to discuss," Wahl stated as he leaned against the stall. He allowed Black Jack to nudge him softly in an attempt to receive an early feeding.

"I'd rather not," she stated in a matter of fact tone as she placed the shovel back in its place, giving up on cleaning the barn.

"Now you know I was against it the whole time," he informed her, "I told my brother that you needed to go find your own husband."

Jack took a deep breath as she allowed a soft smile come across her face and said, "You were always the one person in this family that actually knew who I was."

"Yes," he said with a bright smile, "And I knew that you weren't goin' to be stayin' in one place with a man that you didn't love."

"Daddy sees me as an embarrassment," she revealed in a soft whisper, sadness radiated through her words as soft tears filled her eyes, "I was always his favorite child."

"You still are," Wahl revealed as he looked at his saddened niece, he sympathized for her, his father did the very same to him when he had decided to go to law school instead of taking over the family farm land, "He just doesn't know what to say. Your daddy is like our daddy. Damned if he didn't get every trait our daddy had. He doesn't know how to express his feelings for his children.

"It's ain't right how he treats us," she informed him harshly as she wiped tears out of her eyes.

"No," he stated, "It ain't right, but your daddy does love you. Why do you think he sent me to find you? Do you know what he gave up for you?"

She jerked her head up and looked up at her uncle's solemn face.

"He gave up half his timber rights to Calvin once you left," Wahl informed her, "He offered the reward, dead or alive. Your daddy convinced him to offer a bigger reward for you alive, but Calvin still has title over you, you know that."

She shook her head as a sob formed deep in her chest and threatened to climb her throat to escape her.

"I…I didn't know," she whispered, "But Uncle Wahl," she shook her head, "I can't go back to Candy Land. I don't love Calvin-"

"But you've fallen for this German bounty hunter?"

She closed her eyes and turned away from her prodding uncle. Her heart beat quickened as she recalled the words that Schultz had uttered toward her only a short time ago.

"Uncle Wahl," she said in slight begging tone, "I don't know what I feel for him. I've never been so conflicted in my life. He's a bounty hunter, he had me captured," she took a deep breath, "but that whole time I was with him, I felt free, freer than I have ever felt before in my life."

He chuckled at her and walked toward her, warmth radiated from him as he placed his hands upon her shoulders and looked down on her.

"You were always born the free spirit," he informed her with a smile, "Maybe that's why since you were knee high to a grasshopper, you've always been the favorite out of all this wild bunch. You always had a head on your shoulders. Now I remember, one day when you were 'bout eleven or twelve," a large smile came over her face as he looked down at her, "You were always lookin' down the road, and I knew at that moment that you were lookin' for freedom. The question is, can you and Dr. Schultz share freedom together on the road that you've chosen to go down?"

Her smile faded at his words about her childhood that seemed forever away, she looked up to him and whispered sadly, "I've never been at home here, this place isn't freedom," she paused as she looked up at her uncle and confidant, "Uncle Wahl, I am willing to sacrifice my relationship with my family to leave here, I will sacrifice everything not to go back to Calvin."

"You know that your daddy will expect you to go back," he informed her as he studied her. He watched her soft features hardened as she looked away from him as if she were fighting some inner demon.

"Can I tell you something Uncle Wahl," she whispered as she looked up at him.

"You always knew that you could," he stated with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I didn't leave Candy Land just for my sister," she whispered as she looked quickly around them both, making sure that Helena or any of the other young children were eavesdropping on her and Wahl's conversation.

"Then," he stopped, "Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head and replied, "Not at first," she looked away from him in slight embarrassment, "Momma told me what to expect and," she smiled, "and what I should do for a man…in that way," she shook her head, "And the first two nights were fine, tender even. He was a caring, dignified lover in his ways. I wanted to wait until our wedding night, ya know, real proper and everything, but he insisted to try the goods before the sell," she stopped and shook her head, "Then the night before the wedding he came into my bedroom drunk. God, he was so drunk."

Wahl watched as hot tears fell from her eyes as she recalled the memories of her few nights with her intended husband that she had felt no love for.

She shrugged her shoulders and replied, "And at first it was fine, just as all the other nights before, but then it's like he changed. He," she stopped, "he started to whip me like I was some common Negress in the fields. And he was," she closed her eyes and then quickly looked up to her uncle who looked at her with nothing but controlled concern in his eyes, there was no sense of judgment or rage that reflected back at her, "He was thrusting inside of me so hard that I started to cry in pain, but I was afraid to say anything. When he was finished, he told me that those common nigger whores could handle him better than I could. He made me feel like dirt," tears fell freely down her cheeks, "Please Uncle Wahl, don't make me go back there."

"You have my word that I will not let anyone take you back," he informed her quickly, "I had no idea that he did that to you. Did he leave scars?"

She shook her head and replied, "They aren't even noticeable anymore."

He nodded at her words and whispered, "You leave with them two, you have my word that I won't come after you and I won't allow anyone to come after you."

A soft smile overtook her features and she shook her head as she replied softly, "Thank you."

...

Schultz moved through the yard as the sun seemed to linger over the tree line, not moving, as if time itself stopped in this place where Jack had grown up and became the person he knew today.

"Hey Dr. Schultz," the sarcastic voice of Cotton Hatfield announced from behind him, "What you got goin' between my cousin?"

He shrugged his shoulders, his hand lightly touched against his hidden pistol knowing that he wouldn't gun down one of Jack's family, but the want lingered just above the surface.

"Why don't you ask your cousin," he answered.

His brows furrowed at Schultz's words and added, "Let me tell you 'bout my cousin. She ain't all that you think she is. She's a bit too wild for a man to tame. Shit, I don't think she's even tamable."

"Really," Schultz asked with hidden sarcasm, a smile painting across his handsome bearded face, "I haven't noticed that about her at all."

"She ain't afraid to take a whip to a man," he informed him quickly, "Believe you me. I once saw her whip a man so silly that he couldn't 'member his own name. Ain't nobody gonna be able to break her. She's like that old mare that birthed her mustang, she ain't ever gonna be tamed."

"Well," Schultz said as he slowly moved away from Cotton, "I'm sure that she will be happy to know that you are comparing her to a birthing mare."

Cotton's eyes lit up at his words as he watched the German dentist walking away from him toward the other family member's that were beginning to make a small fire to sit around and talk about the goings on in the world around them, a weekly tradition that had contributed to Jack's solid beliefs and thoughts.

"That son of a bitch," Cotton hissed in annoyance as he decided to follow the man that had insulted him to his face.

...

Night had fallen over the mountains and the Hatfield family along with the small black family that was allowed to stay on their land sat around the fire that had been created earlier. Schultz sat beside Django who was taking in the food that one of the Hatfield hogs had generously contributed for dinner.

Schultz watched as David sat down beside his wife and Helena and lovingly tussled his youngest daughter's hair. He pulled Molly closer to him as he stared deeply into the fire just as Wahl and Jack emerged from the darkness. The smell of whiskey radiated off of his breath as he looked up at them with a cunning smile upon his face.

"Where you two been," David asked as he looked over to his brother and placed his pipe in his mouth.

"I was helpin' Jack muck out the stalls," Wahl informed his older brother as he sat down beside Schultz and gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement, "Speakin' of which, you and I need to have a talk later."

"Well hell why can't we talk now," David asked in slurred speech.

Wahl shook his head and replied in a cold tone, "It's about the McCoy business."

"What the hell about them," he asked as he watched his daughter sit on the far side of the fire away from everyone else.

Schultz watched with a concerned eye as a slight breeze moved across her skin which resulted in her pulling her clothes tighter to her body. He moved to take his jacket off but young Helena had already beaten him to it. He watched with a smile as the young girl hurried to her sister with a large blanket wrapped around her as the two brothers spoke of the McCoy problem that they shared. He couldn't help but feel some strange warmth bubble inside of him as he watched how Jack was with her little sister. She allowed her sister to sit in her lap with the blanket wrapped around the both of them; it was a loving sight that he enjoyed seeing from her.

"If you all don't mend what's wrong between these two families," Wahl informed him, "There won't be any family left to fight on either side."

Schultz turned away from Jack to look at Wahl. He was a man that knew exactly how life worked. There was no doubt that Jack and her uncle had been close; they were more like father and daughter than David was to Jack.

"He's right," Jack informed her family that circled around the fire, "This will never end unless we stop it."

"The McCoy's ain't got no faith in the Lord," Dale announced from around the circle, "You all know what they've done went and done to one of our own. I'm sorry David, but we can't just let them get away with that."

"Jackie," Helena whispered softly and looked up at her sister who was not listening.

"Psalms 139:22," Peter recited with dignity and pride, "I hate them with perfect hatred - with no approval whatever of their conduct; with no sympathy for the evil they do; with no words of apology for their sinful acts; with entire disapprobation. I count them mine enemies - as they are the enemies of God, so I regard them as my enemies. I do not wish to be associated with them, or to be regarded as one of them."

"Amen," the surrounding family members said in unison.

Schultz watched as Jack and Wahl shook their heads in despair and embarrassment. He watched as Jack caught his gaze and gave him a soft smile of reassurance.

"Jackie," Helena said loudly in order to be heard and caught everyone's attention, "No one thinks about Sissy woulda wanted."

"You're right Helena," Jack whispered as she placed a small kiss upon her little sister's head, "Sissy wouldn't like this talk at all."

"What would she like then," Molly asked with a small smile on her face.

"Well she missed Jack just as much as anyone," Helena revealed as she looked up at her sister, "She missed Jack's songs the most."

"No," Jack replied quickly.

"That sounds like a helluva idea, helluva idea," David announced and then pointed over to one of his cousin's oldest children, "How 'bout you start playin' your fiddle there and Jack can sing us a song? Let's make it a good night tonight."

"No," Jack announced as she shook her head in embarrassment. She turned to see Schultz smiling at her.

"I'd like to hear you sing," he informed her with a devious smile.

"Let me tell you," Cotton announced with a large smile as he looked lovingly at his cousin, "She sings beautifully, like a bird."

"No, I can't," she informed them as she shook her head just as her nameless cousin started to play on his homemade fiddle.

"I heard ya sing," Django spoke up.

"What," she asked in slight shock as she glared at him as Schultz turned to look at the man that he had travelled so long with.

"When did you hear her singin'," he asked.

"The night before we got into Nacogdoches," Django answered with a knowing smile, "She sang pretty good," he turned to look at Jack and added, "You was singin' to your horse to calm him down before-"

"I remember," she answered, stopping him quickly to save her mother's poor heart from shock.

"Please Jackie," Helena begged with bright blue eyes.

"Well," Jack whispered, "How 'bout you start singin' and I'll join you?"

Helena smiled as she nodded her head and listened to her cousin playing the fiddle.

"This was Sissy's favorite song," Helena whispered softly to her sister.

I know these hills," Helena sang with childlike innocence, "I know these hills."

"I know the touch of the sacred ground," Jack softly added in with a smile, "where they'll lay my body down. I know these hills."

Schultz smiled as Jack's voice became sharper as she gained more confidence singing along with her younger sister. Her voice wasn't the prettiest thing that he had heard, it was like a bitter saccharine that one could not completely fall in love with or completely hate. She had a voice that was unique to her and her own attitude.

Helena's soft, childlike voice brought in the innocence of life that had yet been destroyed while Jack's hard, matured voice brought in the reality of what life brought after that innocence was destroyed. There couldn't have been a more perfect song that could have been sung between the two.

"Stone on the Earth, rain in the sky, blood on the blade, hear the angels cry," Jack sang, slowly looking to Schultz for a reassuring look which he gave her quickly, "Remember my name, the look in my eyes, oh I, oh I," she stopped and looked down as her sister joined in, "I know these hills, I know these hills."

The fiddle that her cousin played gently on the wind as she rocked her little sister in her arms. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered doing the same with Sissy. She quickly turned to Schultz and smiled softly as she saw concern take over his facial features.

"Ash into ash, dust unto dust," she sang softly, "Father to son, steal and rust. Time comes a callin' and we all rise up," her voice carried across the air, "I know these hills. I know these hills."

"Oooohhhhhhhh," Helena sang with childlike giddiness, "Ohhhhhhhh, oh ooooohhhhh."

David was the first to clap at his daughters and smiled as he turned to Schultz and said, "Aren't my daughters the best you ever seen? Cream of the crop they are."

Jack looked over to Schultz and shook her head as tears escaped her eyes. He watched as she quickly pushed herself from under her younger sister and hurried away from the fire back towards her parent's home and into her bedroom.

"What's wrong with Jackie," David asked as he watched Jack's retreating figure.

"Just leave her be honey," Molly whispered as she placed a kiss upon her husband's cheek.

...

Jack lay in her sister's bed wide awake. The only sound that was being made was from Helena's light snoring. She turned on her side and stared at the door for a long while, contemplating if she should get out of bed and run to Schultz and tell her everything that she felt for him, but she was afraid. She wasn't sure if a relationship between the two of them could work out.

She and Schultz had been travelling together for a very, very long time. They had developed some tensions between them both and shared kisses just weren't cutting it.

She found her hands and feet moving on their own accord, shoving the blankets from her body, and running toward the door. Her heart beat quickly as she opened the bedroom door and softly walked across the cold wooden floor in her bare feet and white cotton nightgown that fell to her knees. Her hair was messy, but she didn't care as she slowly stopped in front of her old bedroom door.

She took a deep breath as she stood in front of the door. Apprehension filled her body as she lifted her hand to the door to knock, but stopped quickly. She lowered her hand and quickly looked toward her parents' room where they slept deeply behind closed doors, enrapt in each other's loving arms.

"King," she whispered and closed her eyes as she placed her hand softly on the door, her fingers lightly touching the cold wood of the door, "Don't open the door," she could hear him scuffling from the bed and walking toward the door to open it for her, "Just listen."

She sighed as she heard him stop at the door.

"I've been thinking about this all day," she said in a soft whisper as she leaned her body against the door with her eyes closed, "I've been thinking over just how I feel about you, and I'd be lying if I told you that I do not feel anything for you, but I don't know how to tell you. So just," she paused, "Just listen."

There was no answer, but she could hear him breathing on the other side of the door.

"I've been on this road for so long," she whispered, "There's not very many people on this road that I have chosen to travel this road, but you did, and we found each other," she swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat, "This road that we are on isn't for the faint of heart, we strayed from our home. I did it because I want to leave my mark on history. I don't know if I will do that, it may all come together in the end or it may come unraveled and then I will have to find a new road to travel on," she stopped her quickening voice as her fingers trembled against the wooden surface of the door, "I don't know if it's fate, or destiny," she smiled softly, "or maybe it's even a mistake, but I want to walk this road with you. You and I both march to the beat of a different drum and somehow when we are together the beat is harmonious. I was going to kill you and Django and slip away, but I didn't," she chuckled softly, "and I'm so very glad that I didn't, because King I really, really want to travel this road with you. I want to go where ever you are. You and Django, you two have become my family. It's you, King," she closed her eyes, "It's you that makes me feel like home, this place, this is just dirt and timber, with you, the road that we travel is just a winding road that will never end and I want to be on it with you, my family."

The door opened softly and Schultz smiled down at her. He watched as she looked up at him with dark eyes. His hands moved on their own accord as he placed his hand behind her ear and pulled her toward him, his lips moved against hers, begging for her to kiss him back which she did greedily.

His other hand pulled her close to him and into the bedroom as if he were a spider pulling the fly into his den for a nice dinner. The door closed behind them and he pinned her against the wooden door. He looked down at her with a smile as he felt her hand caressing his beard. His legs shook as his knees held him steadily against the door; he could feel Jack shaking against him as she struggled to keep her balance against the door as passion swelled between the two of them.

"What a fine beard you have, my dear Whiskers," she whispered with a wicked smile on her face as she watched lust fill his eyes at her nickname that she had given him long ago that she had rarely used since their entrance into the mountains.

She chuckled as his whiskers lightly tickled against her bare throat and collar bone. Her own hands found their way toward his vest and quickly unbuttoned each button and pulled his shirt open to reveal his chest to her. Her hands moved against his hairy chest as she moved into his body, moaning softly as she felt how much he wanted her as he pulled her away from the door and placed her on the bed.

"Jacqueline," he whispered as he looked down at her with her hair surrounding her on the white pillow like the halo of an angel, "Are you sure?"

She smiled at him and shook her head as she adjusted herself underneath him, allowing her gown to slip down her thighs as she allowed him to lay between her thighs.

"Yes," she whispered in his ear as she lightly nibbled on his ear lobe, "But we have to be quiet."

She arched into him as he pulled her gown off of her, exposing her nude body that he had saw on their first encounter. He smiled down at her as she moved to unbutton his grey slacks to reveal his manhood. He moaned softly as he felt her soft hands graze against him and he placed soft kisses down her jawline and down her neck, exploring every inch of her upper body with his lips. He could feel her radiating warmth from underneath him and smiled as her hand reached up to him and lightly tussled his greying hair. He grabbed her hand and placed soft kisses upon her knuckles as he felt his passion for her growing just as he looked into her dark eyes that were pleading with him to touch her more, which he would soon abide to, but he would touch her in a torturous slow manner.

"King," she moaned softly as she grew tired of his teasingly slow touches and pushed herself on top of him. She smiled down at him as she looked deeply into his eyes and added, "We aren't teasing each other anymore."

...

Wahl stood on alert. He had volunteered to look out just in case the McCoy gang decided to raid during the night. He looked out over the hills and smiled as he heard the animals in the wild calling to their better halves.

"Hey Hatfield," he heard a harsh voice announce from behind him to see three McCoy boys coming at him.

Wahl raised his hands, readying to fight them. He threw one punch and knocked the chubbiest of the McCoy boys down to the ground. He threw another off of him and groaned in anger as the tallest of the boys wailed into him with sharp punches.

"Stab him," he heard a strained voice announce from beside him. He quickly pushed the tall man off of him but as soon as he did he felt a sharp intense pain inside of his gut. The pain burned though his body as the sharp Bowie knife was removed from his gut and shoved higher up in the middle of his body, tearing through his vital organs. Blood fell from his body and stained his pressed white shirt as the knife was continuously removed and placed inside his stomach as if the McCoy was trying to gut him like a fish.

"Come on," he heard one of the McCoy boys demand harshly and the patter of horse hooves upon the ground just as the knife was finally removed from his body. He was shoved to the ground and watched as the tall man that had stabbed him began to walk away, leaving him alone to die on the side of a hill.

"You sorry son of a bitch," Wahl hissed between sharp breaths.

"You son of a bitch," the man hissed, "What the hell did you say you god damned Hatfield?!"

Wahl spit bloody saliva at the man and smiled as he watched the light shine upon the silver of the gun that sparkled in the moonlight.

"You heard me you McCoy," Wahl stated, "All cowards, the lot of ya."

A gun shot rang through the air as the bullet passed through Wahl's muscle tissue and through vital organs, including his lungs.

"Let's go!"

Wahl lay on the cold ground bleeding out his precious life rubies, staining the ground that he laid upon. He shook his head at his luck. He had been the one that wanted to find a way to reason with the McCoys in order to stop this bloodshed, but it had ended with his own blood being spilled. He closed his eyes as he heard horse hooves from below rushing towards him to find his dying body.

The bloodshed would soon unravel and he knew that there would be very few survivors…

* * *

**The song that Jack and Helena are singing together is "I Know These Hills" from the Hatfields & McCoys soundtrack.**

**Will Wahl survive?! **


	18. Take Me Home Lord

**Chapter 18: Take Me Home Lord**

**Sorry for the long wait, combined with writing a ten page history paper, reading an authentic Civil War diary and reading many, many letters exchanged between Southern political leaders in the South that leads up to the Civil War for college...and the depressing fact that I have not received any reviews lately...**

**but no worries I am back.**

* * *

Jack heard the horrible, desperate attempts to breathe coming from deep inside her uncle's lungs as he lay on the cold hard ground with blood gushing from his deep wounds that the small gang made up of McCoy boys had gifted upon his aging body.

"Uncle Wahl," she screamed as she bolted from atop her saddle and ran in her long white gown barefoot across the winter ground with the other Hatfield family hurrying from the rear, riding past her towards the men that had trespassed on their land. She hurried to his side and placed her hands upon Wahl's wounds in hopes of stopping the quick loss of blood that he was suffering from. Hot tears fell freely from her eyes as she looked down upon her dying uncle.

"Jackie," he whispered as he looked up at his young niece that he had favored since she was knee high to a grasshopper. He placed his bloodied hand upon her cheek and wiped away the falling tear as well as leaving his blood stained upon her cold white skin.

"Can you help him," she cried as she looked up at Schultz who had hurriedly dressed in the dark after the shots were heard and followed after her as she bolted out of the wooden cabin into the dark without any warm clothing on.

He kneeled down beside her and looked at the paling man that had brought them into the Hatfield family land. Wahl had lost a lot of blood; if there were even a slight chance that he would survive something had to be done immediately.

"I don't-"

Jack shook her head as she clutched onto Wahl's hand and held it close to her body, "No! We have to get him to the house."

Schultz watched as the woman that he had never seen break down in such a way, tried desperately to move her heavy uncle toward her horse. He watched as the man's blood soaked into Jack's white cotton gown as she begged over and over for her uncle to stand up.

"Come on Wahl, we gotta get you up and to the house," she begged as she tried to help him from the ground. Wahl only moaned in intense agony as his body was moved.

"No," Wahl whispered in a contained breath, "I'm not gonna make it."

Shots were heard from the distance which pulled Jack to look away from her uncle momentarily in the distance and then back to her uncle. Rage and grief began to fill her cold body as she looked down at the bloody mess that remained of her once proud, sturdy uncle.

"Which one of them did it," she seethed in anger as she glared down at her pallid uncle who was closing his eyes as death slowly moved throughout his body.

"Jackie," he said in a haggard voice, "Promise me-"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he held on tightly to his niece's hand as more and more of his blood poured onto the ground causing a puddle to form under his body.

"No," she cried as she looked down at her uncle as his lips began to pale from the approaching death.

"Death is coming," he whispered to her as he forced his bloody hand towards her cheek and moved a bloody strand of hair out of her face so he could see her whole face, "I want you," he took a deep breath, "I want you to promise me that you'll take care of the old fool."

"You're gonna make it," she cried as she looked up to Schultz with a pleading sadness in her eyes that radiated from inside her breaking heart and soul as she held on tightly to her uncle's calloused hand, "Tell him King. Tell him that he's going to be just fine."

"I'm going home, Lil Girl," he whispered with a small smile on his, "The Lord is callin' me home."

"No," she cried loudly as she looked down at her uncle, "I won't let Him take you!"

"Jack," Schultz whispered as he looked down at Wahl who turned his head to look up at the German bounty hunter.

"You take care of her," Wahl whispered with a hitched breath as he looked up at Schultz, "Okay Doc?"

With those last words to the German that had taken good care of his niece, he faded away from this world, still clutching onto his niece's hand.

Jack watched with a lowered head as a last breath escaped her uncle's body. Sobs escaped her as she allowed herself break down in front of her dead relative and in front of the man that had stolen her deviled heart.

"No," she cried as she clutched Wahl's hands, "No!'

Schultz watched as Jack shook from broken nerves and immense sadness as she gazed down at the uncle that had been like a father to her. He could hear the sounds of gun fire in the distance as well as the wild barks of angered guard dogs. He forced himself to his feet and walked behind Jack.

Schultz placed his hands under her arms and around her waist and forced her to her feet. He felt her trying to fight him in an attempt to get back to her uncle's fresh corpse, but he fought back and pulled her toward him.

Sobs escaped her as her hands flailed in front of her and pounded into Schultz's chest as she tried to fall back to the ground to stay by her uncle's side.

"Jacqueline no," he said in a demanding voice as he grabbed her wrists and held them tightly in his hands. He looked down at her with dark brown eyes as he watched utter grief paint her features in a grotesque way as hot tears fell from her eyes and snot formed in her nose.

She looked up at him and began to breathe heavily, with a quickened heart rate as panic set in as she listened to the screams of anger that wafted through the night air.

He wrapped his arms protectively around her body and pulled her into his body in an dual attempt to comfort her in her time of great need and to hide her eyes from Wahl's body and the sounds of impending doom that echoed around them.

"I have got you Jack," he reassured her in a hushed tone, his accent thick as he rocked her sobbing form in his arms, "I have got you."

...

David Hatfield emerged from the woods, disturbing the fog that swam just above the ground, in front of the burning shack that the McCoy boys had hid inside. A shack that had once belonged to Wahl when he had decided to escape the duties of being a Hatfield son and study law; it had been his safe haven.

Now flames clasped onto each wooden plank with a fiery grip with a demonic hissing as it destroyed the once safe haven of the learned Hatfield son. Painful screams from the McCoy boys echoed around them in the cold wind as each Hatfield man stood with weapons ready for a McCoy family member to traverse through their property with lethal intent.

"Stop," a choked voice screamed as a body rushed out of the burning shack with dark smoke fondling around him. Coughs escaped the moving boy as he hurried toward the gun toting Hatfield clan, "I surrender!"

"Hold your weapons," David announced as he watched the boy stand in front of them as he shivered in the wind from the horrors that he had witnessed inside the shack. The smell of burning wood and flesh wafted upon the breeze that moved around them as he stood tall in front of the clan, readying himself for any punishment that this family would see fit for the crime that he had participated in.

"Pa," an angered voice announced from behind David. He turned slightly to see Robert and Django riding toward them with guns in hand.

"What is it?"

"Uncle Wahl didn't make it," Robert announced in anger as he pushed himself off of his horse. Django watched as the Hatfield son moved with the same rage that coursed through his body that he had seen Jack move with only months ago when they had gone to Big Daddy's home to bring in a rather large bounty.

He watched as David Hatfield only nodded in acknowledgement. The man's face was emotionless as he moved slowly towards the lone McCoy son with lethal intent as he held his gun threateningly in front of him.

"No," Robert said in anger as he pushed passed his father and pulled his own pistol out ready to place a bullet between the murderer's eyes.

"He was my brother," David announced calmly as he pushed his son's shaking arm away, "It's my job."

"You got any last words McCoy," Cotton Hatfield announced with a snarl as he sat atop his horse and looked down at the boy.

"What's your name boy," David asked with a strange calmness in his voice, "Whose child are you?"

Django watched as the boy shivered as the wood fell from the burning house behind him; fear rattled the young man's bones.

"My…my…my," he stuttered in fear, "My name is Paul McCoy. Son of Nancy and Randall McCoy."

David looked over the young boy and nodded in acknowledgement. The way he looked upon the boy with cool indifference sent prickles of uneasiness through Django as he watched from atop his own horse as Jack's father held his gun threateningly in front of him, directly at the boy's forehead.

"Kneel," David demanded in a strong tone.

The boy shivered at the demand but did not make the desired move that the Hatfield demanded from him. Django felt himself moving slightly forward in his saddle as he watched the boy shiver in fear as he was caught between a burning shack with flames of Hell fire had delivered his two family members to death's door and the Hatfield family that would bring him to death with cold indifference painted upon their tired and angered faces.

"Are you deaf McCoy," David asked, slight anger filling his voice at the utter disrespect that the boy was bestowing upon him, "I said kneel."

Django listened as the patriarch of the Hatfield clan pulled the pin on his gun back which made an audible clicking noise.

"I swear I didn't do nothin'," Paul cried as he hurriedly fell to his knees and looked passed the gun that was aimed at him and into David's eyes, tears fell from his eyes as he looked up at the Hatfield patriarch, "I swear. I didn't have nothin' to with what happened. It was just a mistake."

"A mistake," David asked as he allowed an almost demonic smile cross his face as the shadows of the flames from the building crossed his face, he looked over to his family and then back to the McCoy boy, "You stabbed my brother over and over again," he shook his head, "and then you shot him and left him to die. That's not a mistake boy, that's murder."

"I had nothin' to do with that," the boy cried, "It was all Ellis and Matthew's id-"

A shot rang out and Django jumped as he watched the bullet exit the back of the young boy's head as blood, brains, and pieces of bone followed behind it. He watched in disgusted horror as the boy fell with one last nervous shake of his body to the ground where he passed on into Heaven or Hell, whichever place the good Lord deemed his soul worthy.

"Get his body out of here," David demanded as he looked over to Cotton and Robert, "Take him back to the McCoys and let it be known that if they think that they will spill one more drop of Hatfield blood on this land that they will be met with a bullet in the neck."

"Yes sir," the two boys said in unison and hurried to wrap a rope around the young boy's head to drag him across the rocky terrain to the outskirts of the Hatfield homeland where the McCoys where hiding out.

...

The morning came quickly for the Hatfield family. King had watched as Jack kept to herself and only answered questions with short answers. He watched as she withdrew from her family even more than before with the loss of her uncle.

"We're gonna be buryin' Wahl today," David announced from his place on the porch where the family had sat as they waited with guns ready in case the McCoys decided to make a surprise move inside the Hatfield land.

"Robert and Cotton are workin' on the coffin right now," he informed his suddenly mute daughter. He looked over to Schultz with a concerned look as Jack made her way back into the house where Wahl's body had been placed on the floor in the living room.

"Ya know," David whispered as he looked over to the German bounty hunter, "Jack has always been close to my brother. Hell, he was always the better father figure in her life. He always knew how to handle her," he shook his head in regret, "The last thing he said to me was about how he didn't want no more bloodshed…and now look what happened."

"She loves you," Schultz found himself blurting out as he looked over to the forlorn Hatfield father; he smiled as he pointed towards the distance, "You know she talked a lot about you out there. Very good, I might point out."

"Then why don't she talk to me?"

Schultz shrugged his shoulders and allowed his hands to straighten his greying whiskers and added, "Well the fact that she's mourning her uncle," and he forced a smile to come across as his face as he added, "And the fact that she's as stubborn as a mule."

David chuckled at Schultz's words and nodded as he replied, "She is that. Just like my momma," he stopped and then looked over to the bounty hunter; a look of indifference now covered his face, "I think that you and your nigger Django need to go on and get out of here. Go on about your business."

Schultz was taken aback by the man's sudden change in demeanor.

"You can stay for the funeral course," he added to the surprised bounty hunter, "Jack would like that I think…but after that I am expectin' you to get on your way."

"Like I said before," Schultz answered with a soft chuckle in hopes of relieving the tension that had formed between the two, "Jack is under my protection until-"

"Look Dr. Schultz," David said as he cast a lethal glare over to the German, "There is a way that things work around here. Jack is my property and I've done sold her."

Schultz looked at the man in confusion as he absorbed the information that he was being given, "Sold? What do you mean-"

"She's a married woman Schultz," David revealed, "or soon to be anyways when she gets back into Mississippi. And it ain't becoming of her being off with a single man and a nigger alone anymore. You brought her back and that's fair enough, I thank ya for that. I'll send you the reward money, but my daughter is gonna be sent back. I lost too much on this deal just to keep her alive. And there ain't gonna be no arguin' about it. You and your Django gonna be out of here by night, ya hear?"

* * *

**Reviews are what keep me happy :D**


	19. Hurt

**Chapter 19: Hurt**

A frigid breeze blew over the collection of Hatfields that stood upon the graveside hill were many old wooden crosses stood tall as memorandums of lost kinfolks. A lone pine tree stood above them as a Hatfield cousin prayed as the wooden casket that held the body of Wahl Hatfield inside was lowered into the cold dark ground.

Jack stood tall with her face void of any emotion as she listened to her cousin's prayer and vows of revenge upon the family that had started this violent vendetta against them. Schultz stood beside her, keeping a wary on her. She knew that he was worried, but her mind was occupied with thoughts of her lost uncle and just how she would get back at the McCoy family for this murder.

Schultz glanced quickly over to Django with worry in his eyes as the harsh wind billowed the long skirts of Jack's black mourning dress; a dress that he could tell had been worn on more than one occasion. He watched as David Hatfield moved forward with his head held low and hat in hand, placed solemnly over his stomach as he stood in front of the open grave.

"My brother," he stopped as he looked down to the grave, holding in the pain that filled him, "My brother was a damned good man. He had his faults, but all in all he was a damned fine man. He did what he could for his family. He brought Jacqueline back to us," he looked up to his daughter who was looking through him; he took a deep breath, "Him being gone, so violently has made a big impact on us. My brother wanted this bitter disagreement handled right and he lost his life for that belief. It is clear-"

"Death to all McCoys," a cousin screamed from the back.

Schultz watched as Jack quickly closed her eyes and moved forward, her feet moved on their own consent towards the dirt heap. He watched as she carefully pulled a handful of dirt from the heap and was the first to throw dirt upon her uncle's wooden coffin. A single tear fell down her pale skin as the dirt scattered with a clumping noise as she glared down at the hole where her uncle's body would lay for all eternity.

"Good night Uncle Wahl," she whispered so softly that she doubted anyone could hear her speak.

"Jacqueline," the soft voice of Schultz said as he walked behind her and placed his hand upon her lower back in a comforting manner.

She turned to him with dark eyes. Rage, sorrow, and hatred burned in her violently bright eyes as she glared at him. The cold wind blew hard against her and began to blister her sharp cheeks red.

"Don't," she warned darkly.

He backed away from her slowly, raising his hands in understanding. He opened his mouth to say something reassuring to her, but she quickly cut him off.

"I'm sorry," she said in a bitter tone, "I just can't right now. Please just understand. I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to be happy, or silly. I just, I can't do it right now."

"Okay," he replied with a nod of his head, accepting what she had said to him and understanding her need for space. He understood that she had lost a close friend, a loved one, a man that had been more of a father to her than her own father was. He watched as she hurried away from him with her head hung low. He watched as the silken ribbons of her black hat blew in the wind and her black skirts made out of cotton that slaves had toiled in fields to produce move with her body as she hurried down the hill and over old forgotten graves.

"How's she doin'," Django asked as he came to Schultz's side and watched Jack walk away.

"She's in mourning," he informed his old friend, "But," he said with a small confident smile and a raised hand, "I think that she'll be just fine in due time."

"I got our stuff ready to go," Django informed him as he watched Jack walking far from them, "Why you don't want Jack to know?"

"Because Django," Schultz answered softly, in an almost tired tone, "She's better with her family for now. She needs to be surrounded by people that love her."

"And you think these people love her?"

Schultz looked over to the family that was now dispersing from the grave site. He shrugged his shoulders and pursed his lips slightly.

"Isn't that what families do," Schultz asked of his dear friend.

"I think it's a lil lackin' in this family," Django whispered, "What love this family had is now buried in six foot underground."

"I don't have any doubt in my mind that Jack will let us leave without some sort of ruckus," Schultz answered.

...

Jack sat at the small writing desk in her sister's bedroom. She sighed as she looked down at the letter that she was writing. Words formed in wet, permanent black ink that her mouth hadn't the courage to speak. Her mourning hat was thrown haphazardly upon the well-made bed that she was forced to sleep on.

"What are you doing," she heard the soft voice of Helena speak up. Jack turned slightly away from her station to look at her young sister all dressed in black.

"Writing a letter," Jack answered honestly.

"Is it to Uncle Wahl?"

"No," Jack said, anger in her voice, "It's not for Uncle Wahl. Uncle Wahl is in Heaven, all I need do is speak to the skies and he will hear my words."

"Then who is it for," Helena asked as she moved slowly towards her older sister.

"It's for Dr. Schultz," she answered with an almost emotionless tone as she turned away from her sister to continue on with her writing.

"Why do you have to write him a letter," Helena asked, "Why not just speak aloud to him?"

"Because they are words that my mouth cannot say, Helena," Jack answered simply, "Now what do you want Sister? I'm a little busy at the moment."

"Cousin Cotton wants a word with you out there in the barn," Helena informed her quickly.

"What about?"

"I don't know. Didn't ask. I think it's about adult stuff though," Helena answered with a shrug of her shoulders, "Does he still want you to be his?"

Jack turned quickly to her little sister, her brows furrowed as she looked at the young girl dressed in black. The question had taken her by surprise coming from such a young child.

"Even if he does," Jack explained, taking it upon herself to speak to her younger sister like she was a young adult, "There are some things that men cannot claim for themselves. It is a woman's decision to decide if she wants to belong to a man or not," she stopped and looked at her younger sister, "Do you understand that?"

Helena nodded.

"Don't ever let anyone dictate how your life will be," she demanded of her sister, "Just because you are a Hatfield does not mean that you are bound by duty to be loyal to them."

"Do you love Dr. Schultz," Helena asked, ignoring Jack's words, "Is that why you left here and didn't marry Cousin Cotton?"

"That's not why I left," Jack informed Helena as she stood up and folded the letter carefully, "Now I'm going to leave this letter here. I don't want you messin' with it, ya hear?"

"Yes," Helena answered with a nod as she watched her older sister nod in return as and walk out of the bedroom. She waited for the sound of the door closing to hurry to the writing desk where she quickly unfolded the letter and read it with sparkling eyes.

"I knew it," she whispered in glee as she folded the letter back perfectly. She knew what her father had demanded of the dentist and his black faced friend, she could help her sister…

...

"Son of a bitch," Boyd screamed in anger as he watched Tommy pull what was left of their young cousin out of the cold stream. The boy's skin was clammy and white from blood loss. His eyes were glassy. Small cuts and mud covered his body from being dragged then thrown into the river.

"Hatfields did this," a McCoy cousin informed the group as they looked at the bullet wound in between the young man's eyes.

"But Boyd," Tommy declared as he looked away, "You and I both know these boys killed Wahl Hatfield in cold blood. They stabbed him over and over again, then shot him. Johnny told you so."

"Wahl drug Billy to death. Then those Hatfields burned Ellis and Matthew. They shot poor Paul clean between the eyes," Boyd said as he hurried away from the small stream and back towards his horse, "This is the last time McCoy blood will be spilt," he looked up at the sky, the sun was readying to set and darkness would soon take over, "We're endin' this today! Get on your horses."

Boyd pulled himself up on his horse and waited for the rest of his family members to clamber atop their nags.

"We gonna kill 'em all," he yelled over them, "Jack Hatfield is mine though! You leave that little wench to me!"

He jerked his horse around and faced the direction of the Hatfield lands, "Hatfields be damned!"

Tommy watched with foreboding as his family rushed across the river stream, hoots and hollers filled the air around him in their excitement to end a family that had nothing to do with what had happened. Everything had gotten way out of hand. It all started with what happened to the Hatfield daughter. That's what started it all. The fault lay with the one McCoy boy, but it had escalated into something more, something that was destroying both families.

...

Jack walked into the old barn. She saw Cotton and her brother standing tall, along with her many male cousins. Their eyes were sternly set on her as she walked into the cold barn. Two horses ate in slight agitation with the people that were disturbing their dinner.

"Where's Fritz," she asked as she looked over to the empty stall where Schultz's horse had made his home.

"Daddy wants you out here and away from the house," Robert informed her quickly as he walked towards.

"Why does he want that," she asked her eyes jerked towards the empty stall that Black Jack had escaped from during the course of the day. Her heart beat in worry as she watched the boys coming closer towards her.

"David thinks it's better if they left you here," Cotton informed her, "With me."

"No ding bat," Peter announced from the back, "He wants her to go back to Calvin Candie so he can get his land back."

"What," she asked, backing up and turning quickly. Worry for King and Django filled her as her legs tried moving with long strides, but her long and heavy black mourning dress kept her at a slow gait. She jerked as she felt arms wrap around her wrists and pull her back.

"Let me go," she hissed in anger as she was pulled deeper into the barn, she jerked violently in her brother's arms.

"You gotta go back," Robert whispered in her ear, hoping to calm her down.

"No," she screamed as she shoved her elbow into his stomach and twisted out of his grip. Her hands moved quickly up underneath her skirt where she jerked her hidden pistol out of its home upon her thigh. She held it towards her family with lethal intent.

"Jackie," Cotton stated cautiously as he held his hand up to her, "You wanna put that down?"

"No I don't think that I do," she said in anger as she blew her fallen bangs out of her sweating forehead, "I'm not. You come a step nearer, I'll shoot you all dead."

"We're family," Peter said as he bolted towards her.

A loud bang echoed throughout the barn. The horses jumped in sudden fear and pawed at the ground as they ran in hopeless circles. The chickens from outside clucked in sudden fright. Peter wailed in pain as he pulled his knee to his chest and clutched his busted open boot in his hands. Blood covered his hands as he cried.

"Bitch shot me in the fuckin' foot," he screamed as the males turned to look at him.

"Sorry boys," she stated with a wicked smile as she whistled for Black Jack, "I have a reputation to keep up and this family ain't going to change what I am."

Black Jack billowed in excitement as he rushed towards his owner. She jumped upon him and rode sidesaddle away from the barn. Her hair fell out of its bun as the cold wind whipped by her. The sun was just above the tree line as she rushed by her home where her father was running out of the house with anger and disbelief clearly on his face as she rode passed him. She could see her mother and her sister following him out of the house, both wearing smiles and her sister jumping in excitement at her escape.

"Sorry Daddy," she announced as she kicked Black Jack in the flanks and hurried down the well beaten path that Schultz and Django had taken. She knew that she could catch up with them; she knew that they couldn't have gotten very far.

Black Jack's hooves beat over the cold hard ground as she finally came up on Schultz and Django. A large smile came across her face as she whistled at them.

"Damn," Django whispered, "That was fast."

Schultz chuckled and twirled his fantastic mustache as he brought Fritz to a stop just as Jack and her horse moved towards them.

"Woah boy," she demanded softly of Black Jack as she pulled back on the reins and patted him gently on his muscled black neck.

Her eyes darted to Django and then to Schultz and she shook her head, "You left without me! I thought we were in this excursion to get Broomhilda back together?"

Schultz smiled at her question and replied, "Well," he looked around slyly, "we knew it wouldn't take you long to find out that we were gone. We were just about to stop to wait for-"

Shots and hollers were heard off in the distance, in the same direction that Jack had just escaped. Schultz watched as worry quickly painted his lover's sharp face. He watched as she turned to look at him with fear in her eyes.

"I have to go back," she explained in an almost begging tone, "I can't leave them with that."

More shots were heard, it sounded as if a civil war was raging on the Hatfield land that Schultz and Django had just left. Schultz watched as Jack and her horse raced across the earth with dust moving behind them.

"We gonna go off after her," Django asked as he looked over to the man that had freed him.

"Of course not," Schultz informed him as he turned Fritz around and kicked him in the flank, "Remember," Schultz added as he looked over to the black man beside him, "Smooth is more important than fast, and more important than smooth is accurate."

Jack jumped off of Black Jack with speed as she watched bullets flying around her. Her brother and her cousins held positions with guns pointed towards the trees were cowardly McCoys hid as they tried to murder her entire family.

She ran towards Cotton who was fighting off three McCoy cousins that had been brave to come out of the tree lines. She ripped her gun out of her holster and shot at one of the McCoys, giving Cotton ample enough time to grab his pistol and finish off the other two while Jack shot at the encroaching armed men.

"I AM HELL ON EARTH," Cotton screamed as he held his arms up in victory and spit upon the three dead McCoys at his feet.

A loud shot erupted within Jack's left ear. She watched in horror as a bullet moved through Cotton's throat, leaving blood to spew from his artery and paralyzed on the ground.

"Shit," she whispered as she ducked an oncoming bullet and hurried away from her cousin and back towards the house where she could find the rest of her weapons. She could see Django and Schultz coming up with their guns barred, ready to fight to keep her safe.

"Sister," a small voiced called out to Jack.

Jack stopped quickly in the middle of the cross fire with her head tucked down low as she looked for the familiar yet scared voice of her baby sister.

"Over here," Helena cried from under a wagon wheel with tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. Jack hurried over to her sister, crouching as she moved to avoid flying bullets.

"Come on," Jack demanded as she grabbed onto Helena's elbow and pulled her out from under the wagon, "On the count of three we are going to run to the house okay?"

"Uh huh," Helena whispered as she sucked in the snot that was escaping her nose.

"Three," Jack screamed in worry as she forced her sister to run across the newly made battle field of bullets and dead McCoys and Hatfields, "Almost there!"

She shoved open the door and threw her sister to the ground as she bolted the door behind her. She opened her eyes to see her mother and grandmother hiding under the table. She watched as her mother reached her arms out and embraced her youngest daughter.

"Oh thank God," she cried as she buried her head into her daughter's long locks of hair and held her close, "God was with you both."

"What you doin'," the old grandmother asked as she watched Jack hurrying to load a shot gun and her pistol with a look of determination and fear upon her features. Her hands moved quickly as the sounds of screaming echoed around them.

"What's it look like I'm doing," Jack asked bitterly as she placed her back against the wall, readying herself to go back into the battlefield.

She took a deep breath as she opened the door and violently thrust herself out into the open. She shot at and brought down several McCoy boys with the shot gun and quickly discarded it as she reached for her pistol. She looked around with darting eyes as she looked for the man that she wanted.

Her eyes sparkled with revenge as she found the burly chested Boyd retreating like the coward that he was back into the dense trees that surrounded the Hatfield home. She quickly picked up the ends of her mourning dress and held her pistol steady as the bullets soon started to cease as the remaining McCoys rushed into the safety of the thick trees.

As she entered into the dense woods, she quickly came upon a clearing and hurried into the middle of it. Her eyes and ears heightened as she waited for any sign of Boyd. She had seen him hurry this way, but yet there was no visible sign of him.

"Come out, come out," she said in a singsong tone, "where ever you are."

A shot rang out and she felt a pain jut through her hand and up her arm. The pain radiated through her body though there was no wound visible. She watched as her gun fell to the ground and a laugh resounded around her. She turned quickly to see Boyd standing in front of her with an almost demonic, prideful smile upon his face.

"Look at what I got here," he said happily as he edged closer to the lone woman, the woman that he had been chasing for months, "The little lady all alone for once."

He moved towards her and lurched out with one hand and shoved her to her knees. He felt powerful as she looked up at him from her place on her knees.

"Why don't you pray to God for mercy? Pray for him to help you," he asked bitterly as he looked down on her.

"I ain't ever took comfort in prayin' to him before," she hissed as she glared into his eyes as she looked up at him, "I doubt He'll hear me now."

Boyd chuckled at her words and replied, "What need do Hatfields have of God."

"That's right," she informed him as she glared up at him, weaponless and almost hopeless.

"You know why I'm gonna have to kill you, don't you," he asked bitterly.

"No," she answered with a shrug and a harsh smile, "Not really."

She watched with a bright smile as anger bubbled inside the man that held her in place on her knees in front of him.

"You killed my brother," he informed her quickly as he cocked his gun and placed it at her temple, "Now what we gonna do 'bout that?"

"Your brother deserved it, you know," she informed him in a matter of fact tone.

"As you deserve to die with a bullet in your head," he informed her.

She rolled her eyes and added, "Your brother was a self-important greedy little puss. He got what was comin' to him," she lifted a brow, "Unless I'm thinking about some other self-important greedy little puss that I killed."

The butt of his gun came violently in touch with her cheek. The power of the impact caused Jack to fall over and lay on her side. Her hand came to her cheek but was quickly jerked away as she first felt Boyd's foot kicking into her ribs and then felt his fisted hands coming in contact with her face over and over again as he positioned himself on top of her. She moved quickly, tried to fight but his huge girth overpowered her and every punch weakened her body.

"Jackie," screams from the house echoed through the trees causing Boyd to stop his dangerous punches. He looked down on the woman underneath him to see blood pouring from her mouth and her nose; he could see the outlines of bruises forming on her swollen face. He smiled in satisfaction at the damage that he had done.

"Adios Mad Jack," he whispered as he cocked his gun, "I want you to die slowly like you did to my brother."

Tears of pain fell from Jack's bloody eyes as she watched him pull the trigger. The bullet ripped through her stomach. He shot again, this time the bullet pierced her chest causing her eyes to close as the pain and quick blood loss filled her body.

Boyd hurried from his place atop Mad Jack Hatfield and whistled for his horse. He hurried away from the woman that would soon pass through the gates of Hell. He could hear the voice of David Hatfield screaming and crying as he came upon his daughter's body.

"No, Jackie," David cried as he dropped to his knees beside his daughter. He grabbed onto her cold hand and held it close to his as he cried. He could still feel a soft pulse as he held her hand in his.

"Okay," he cried, "It's going to be okay."

He watched as his daughter's swollen eyes opened slightly and she slurred out his name.

"I'm so sorry," he cried as he looked down at her, "Please forgive me."

"Daddy," she whispered with blood pouring from her mouth, "Don't let me die."

* * *

**As a history major I have read many, many, many letters from this time period. The thing with reading letters is that you don't actually hear their voices. Just like me writing here, you have no idea what I sound like. So with speech patterns, I'm going off of my own, which is very stereotypical Southern. We don't know how they spoke, we weren't there...I'm willing to bet it is very similar to how we speak today. **

**And Jack kind of goes in between how she speaks, whether it be educated or slang, depends on who she is talking to and in what manner she is speaking in. If you live in the South and watch people around you their accent changes from person to person. I, for example, have a very noticeable accent when I am excited. I always have it, but it's more noticeable in certain situations. So I just depict her accent as a real human person. So it changes.**

**Okay, back to business. I had some really great reviews! How about some more? **

**What is to happen to Jack? Nothing is worse than a gut shot! **

**Boyd is still on the loose. What will happen to him?**

**Review! :)  
**


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